


Wow and Flutter

by GreyMichaela



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Angst and Humor, Completely different 'verse I promise, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, For a given value of humor, Hey look I'm torturing my babies again, Hurt/Comfort, I have a lot of feelings about sweet protective Sam and snarky mouthy Gabe okay?, M/M, They're high-schoolers, This is not Coffee Cake, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-10 02:16:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2007198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyMichaela/pseuds/GreyMichaela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel Milton is seventeen years old, a good son and a loyal friend.  This counts for nothing with his parents, though, because he's also gay.  So over the summer, he is sent to Whispering Pines, a camp for wayward teens who have strayed from the straight and narrow path.  There, he meets Sam Winchester, a fellow "inmate" who's hiding a big secret.</p><p>(Was: Gabriel Goes To Camp.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was an anonymous prompt I got on Tumblr. (YES I am addicted to Tumblr prompts, NO I'm not seeking help for my addiction, shaddup I'm having fun.)
> 
> "How about an 'ex-gay' Camp Sabriel Au, Where Gabriel gets send to a de-gay camp by his religious parents for the fear of being disowned otherwise and meets Sam one of the consulter at the camp who is trying to write a paper on these camps. lots of angst and almost dying moments (Since you seem to love that), with a cute happy ending."
> 
> I don't know who the anonymous submitter was, but they certainly seem to have a handle on my style. I _think_ I'm flattered! ;o)
> 
> I marked this as underage because I've never written them this young before and I'm unsure if that's supposed to be used only if one half of the pairing is underage and the other isn't. In this, Gabriel is 17 and Sam is a month from his 17th birthday.
> 
> Also, Nonnie, I changed a few of the things in your suggestion (because I am MAD WITH POWAH and can't be stopped), but I really hope you still like it!
> 
> Huge thanks to [Susan](http://ihaveallthesefeelsokay.tumblr.com).
> 
> Title is an April Smith and the Great Picture Show song. It'll make sense in chapter six. (Rating is Teen and Up for now, but I expect to bump it to Mature before I'm done.)

“But…”

Gabriel’s father held up a finger and Gabriel closed his mouth abruptly.

“No buts,” Charles Milton said.  “You’re going and that’s final.”

Gabriel looked at his mother but she refused to meet his eyes, focusing on her hands in her lap.

“You leave tomorrow,” Gabriel’s father said.  The conversation was clearly over.

Gabriel stood up and headed for the stairs.

“Where are you going?” his father called.

“To pack,” Gabriel snapped.  “Unless that part’s something I have no control over either?”  He waited but Charles said nothing, so Gabriel took the stairs two at a time, hurling himself into his bedroom and leaning back against the closed door. He knew better than to slam his door; he didn’t need _that_ kind of wrath rained down on him when he was already so close to the edge.

Pushing away, Gabriel crossed his room and collapsed onto his bed facedown. Maybe if he concentrated hard enough, he could shift realities and end up in a family that loved him for who _he_ was, not who they wanted him to be.

A tentative knock sounded on the door.

“Go away!” Gabriel shouted into his pillow.

“It’s me,” Castiel said.

Gabriel sat up.  “Oh.  In that case, close the door behind you.”

Castiel slipped inside and obeyed, shutting it silently.  He surveyed Gabriel for a moment, brow furrowed and dark blue eyes creased in concern.

“Why do you antagonize him?” he asked.

Gabriel rolled his eyes.  “This is _not_ my fault, little brother.”

“But you know what he’s like,” Castiel insisted.  “You know he will never stop insisting you change.  So why do you fight him so hard?”

“Because I _can’t_ change, Cas!” Gabriel snapped.  He collapsed backward onto his pillows and stared up at the ceiling.  “I can’t change.  I didn’t ask to be gay. You think I _wanted_ this?”

Castiel sat down on the bed next to him and took his hand.  “You’re more like him than you realize,” he said.

Gabriel yanked his hand away.  “I am _nothing_ like him,” he hissed.

“You’re stubborn, you’re proud, you’re terrifyingly intelligent.  You’re gifted in ways that I can only dream about. You’ll fight to the death for what you believe.  You _are_ like our father, whether you recognize that or not.”

“Except I’m not a bigot or a homophobe,” Gabriel said.  He covered his face.  “Why won’t he love me, Cas?  Why am I never good enough the way I am?”

Castiel sighed.  “He sees potential for greatness in you.  His methods are wrong but he is trying to help you realize that potential.”

Gabriel glared at him through his fingers.  “I can be great _and_ gay, you know. Bitch, I can be _fabulous._ ”

Castiel’s lips twitched.  “I have no doubt of it.”

“Will you write to me while I’m at the camp?” Gabriel asked.

“Of course,” Castiel said immediately.  “Every day, if you want.”

“That’d be good,” Gabriel said.  “I’m going to hate every single minute of this.”

 

He was wrong, though.  For one thing, the campgrounds themselves were a pleasant surprise.  Nestled deep in the piney woods, the main lodge was a huge, sprawling log cabin, with smaller cabins for the campers scattered around it in a rough half-circle.  Behind the lodge were the volleyball courts, a mini-golf course, hiking trails, and the camp’s small stable.  Gabriel perked up at that. He liked horses. Maybe he could help out at the stable.

The group of boys piled off the bus in a rush and then milled in a circle, unsure what to do.

An older man with deep sunken eyes and a petulant set to his mouth stepped forward and clapped his hands sharply.  “Welcome to Whispering Pines!” he said.

Gabriel stifled a snort.  _Original name._

“My name is Zachariah,” the man continued, “And I am the head counselor here. If you have any questions or concerns, you may bring them directly to me, or to any of the staff. We’re going to get you settled into your cabins, and then you may have the afternoon off to explore the facility.”

Gabriel raised his hand and Zachariah nodded at him.

“What if someone doesn’t want to be here and they try to run away?”

Zachariah smiled and Gabriel squashed the urge to slap the condescension right off his smug face.  “We are thirty miles from the nearest city.  Our closest neighbor is ten miles through the forest in the opposite direction from town. The highway is under a strict No Hitchhikers policy, and any teens found on that road will be returned here immediately by the police.”

He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes to stare at Gabriel.  “Running away would be…ill-advised.”

A chill skittered down Gabriel’s spine and he swallowed hard as Zachariah turned back to the group and continued to tell them about the camp. The Asian boy to his left shifted nervously and Gabriel glanced at him.

“You just pissed off the leader of the uber-religious prison camp, dude,” the boy whispered.  “Probably not the smartest move.”  He pushed dense black hair off his forehead.  “I’m Kevin.”

“Gabriel Milton,” Gabriel said, offering his hand.  “Why are you here?”

Kevin snorted.  “Same reason you are, I expect.  Got caught kissing a boy behind the bleachers.”

“Cliché much?” Gabriel murmured, and Kevin flipped him off.  Discreetly, where Zachariah couldn’t see.

Gabriel snickered.  He was going to like Kevin, he could already tell.  Zachariah was droning on about schedules and mealtimes.  _Boring._ Gabriel glanced around the group of young men, inspecting his fellow inmates.  A scrawny boy with ears that stuck straight out stood on his other side, his pale skin dotted with acne and freckles.  Gabriel winced in sympathy.  The curse of puberty.

Behind Gabriel was a boy about Castiel’s age, no more than fourteen, arms wrapped tight around his middle and an expression of abject misery on his face. Gabriel bit his lip, but before he could speak to him, the young man next to the miserable boy leaned in and spoke quietly in his ear.

The other boy looked up, startled, and Gabriel followed his eyes upward, into the face of the _very tall_ young man. Gabriel straightened unconsciously. _Oh, hello._   The boy was a little younger than Gabriel, so probably sixteen or so, with shaggy brown hair that fell into bright green eyes.  He smiled at the unhappy boy and then glanced up and met Gabriel’s gaze.

Gabriel smiled at him.  Tall, gorgeous, and kind. Maybe this camp wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

 

They were sorted into two groups.  Tall, kind and gorgeous was in Gabriel’s group, as well as the miserable boy, Kevin, and the skinny guy with the ears, as Gabriel had privately dubbed him. Lugging their bags behind then, they followed the counselor assigned to them, a smiling young man only a few years older than them who said his name was Brady.   Gabriel instinctively disliked him on general principles; he was far too good-looking for his own good.

Gabriel was in the first cabin, as was the unhappy boy, whose name was Alfie. Their roommates were Kevin and…Gabriel did a tiny internal victory dance when he realized tall, kind and gorgeous rounded out their quartet. 

Brady was explaining that each cabin was named after a book of the Bible. “This is the Psalms cabin,” he told the four young men, who did their best to look interested.

“Bet they don’t have a Song of Solomon cabin,” Gabriel muttered, and the tall boy stifled a snort of laughter.  Gabriel grinned at him as Brady cleared his throat.

“Now, per regulations, I’m going to have to search your bags,” he said. “Just to make sure no contraband was brought into camp that could potentially harm your impressionable minds.”

Gabriel stomped hard on the surge of glee that rose within him when he heard that. He’d been hoping something like this would happen.  If he was going to be forced to attend this stupid camp, he damn well wasn’t going without a fight. Smoothing out his face, he pulled his bag into the middle of the floor.

“You can check mine first,” he said carelessly, and flopped backwards onto the bunkbed directly behind him.

He heard Brady unzipping the bag and the rustling as he went through the toiletries – aspirin, toothbrush, hairbrush, soap.  Then there was a sharp intake of breath and Gabriel smiled at the upper bunk.

Brady stood up, holding the porn magazine between thumb and forefinger as if it would contaminate him.

The other boys gasped in unison and Gabriel sat up, affecting confusion. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “That’s not against the rules, is it?”

Brady was glaring at him.  “You brought _pornography_ into the house of God,” he snarled.  “This…this _filth_ is not permitted.  How _dare_ you-” He cut himself off, taking a deep breath.  “Zachariah will deal with you.”  He turned on his heel and stalked out of the cabin.

A stunned silence filled the room after he left.  Then the tall boy broke it with whoops of delighted laughter, collapsing onto the bed beside Gabriel and holding his ribs as he howled with glee. Gabriel grinned at him as Kevin and Alfie crowded nearer.

“I can’t believe you _did_ that,” Kevin gasped. “You smuggled _porn_ into a Christian camp!”

“Not just any porn,” Gabriel said.  “Gay bondage porn. Hardcore shit.”

“Do you actually read that stuff?” the tall boy demanded, propping himself up on his elbows.

“Nah,” Gabriel said, smiling at him.  “I was just going for maximum shock value.  I’m Gabriel.”  He held out his hand and the brown-haired boy took it.  His hand was huge and warm and nearly enveloped Gabriel’s.

“Sam Winchester,” he said.  “And you may just be my hero.”

“So what’s your sin, Sam Winchester?” Gabriel asked. 

Sam shrugged, still on his elbows.  “My parents are convinced I’m gay.  Which means I’m going to hell, of course.  So here I am.”

“Are you?” Gabriel asked.  “Gay, I mean.”

Sam slanted an amused look at him.  “I’m pretty sure I’m bisexual, but I’m still figuring it out.”

“You’re remarkably well-adjusted, considering you’re going to hell,” Gabriel said.

Sam snorted, amused.  “There are things worth worrying about and things worth…not.”

 _Tall, gorgeous, kind_ and _has his head on straight?_ Gabriel was pretty sure he was falling for this kid, and he’d only known him for five minutes.

The door bounced open and Zachariah stood in the doorway, a scowl on his already sour face. “ _Gabriel,_ ” he snarled.

Gabriel stood up, pushing down the ball of butterflies that had suddenly erupted in his stomach.

Zachariah stalked toward him.  “Brady has given me to understand that you have brought filth onto this holy ground.”

“I thought this was a cabin,” Gabriel said lightly.  “Not a church.”

Zachariah’s eyes narrowed.  “This entire camp has been consecrated to God’s service.  The ground you stand on is holy, and it is not to be desecrated with homosexual perversions.”

“I checked the handbook,” Gabriel said.  He was aware of Sam standing up next to him, shoulder to shoulder. Well…shoulder to ribcage. _He had to be at least six foot three_ , Gabriel thought a little wildly.   “There was nothing in there about not bringing reading material.  I didn’t want to get bored during my downtime, is all.”  He tried his best winning smile but Zachariah continued to glare.

“You are working in the stable for the next two weeks.  When you are not needed at the stable or in your classes or eating meals, you are to be in your bunk.  If you stay out of trouble for two weeks, we will see about reinstating some of your privileges.  Report to Anna in the morning, six am sharp.  She will be in charge of you during this time.”

With that, Zachariah turned on his heel and left the cabin.

“Well, that was fun,” Gabriel said.  “I was expecting more whips and chains, less…horseshit.  But hey, horses are cool, right?”  He sat down on the bed again.  “Oh, anyone care if I take this bunk?”

“Sure,” Sam said.  “I’ve got the top. Alfie, you and Kevin fight it out over the other bunkbed, okay?”  He grabbed his bag and began unpacking the contents into the top two drawers of the dresser next to their bed.

Gabriel watched him silently, enjoying the way Sam moved with economy and grace despite his freakishly long limbs.  Kevin and Alfie were on the other side of the room, talking in quiet murmurs.

“You’re gonna be a legend around camp by tonight, you know,” Sam said, his back still turned.

Gabriel shrugged.  “Not why I did it, but I’m not gonna complain with an enhanced reputation.  Maybe it’ll save me a few beatings.”

“You get beat up a lot?” Sam asked, glancing over his shoulder.

“My fair share,” Gabriel said.  He fell over onto his back and stared up at the bunk above him.  “I’m short and mouthy and gay; I kind of beg to be picked on.”

“Not while I’m around,” Sam said, his voice fierce.

Gabriel lifted his head and stared at him.  “You don’t even _know_ me!”

“I know enough,” Sam said.  “You don’t want to be here any more than I do.  You’re nice to kids like Alfie and Kevin.   You’re obviously a smartass, which I have a soft spot for.  And you’re determined to buck the rules of this stupid place, and for that I think I may love you just a little bit.  So yeah, I know enough.”

Gabriel swallowed hard and dropped his head back to the pillow.  Well… _shit_. This kid was damn near perfect.

 

By the time Gabriel finished unpacking, the sun was dipping below the horizon. He walked to the door and peered outside.

“You think they’re going to give us dinner at any point?” he asked.

Sam glanced at him from his cross-legged seat on the floor, flipping through the actual books Gabriel had brought.  “Hey,” he said, holding one up, “Can I borrow this?”

“Sure,” Gabriel said without looking.  He closed the door and sighed.  He’d been too nervous to eat lunch on the bus, and he was _hungry._

A knock sounded and Gabriel yanked the door open to reveal Brady standing on the other side.

“It’s dinnertime,” Brady said.

“Finally!” Gabriel said, and turned to find his shoes.

“Not you,” Brady said.

Gabriel froze and then swiveled to face him.  “What?”

Brady met his eyes steadily.  “Zachariah feels it would be better for you to spend the evening fasting and meditating on your sins. You will stay here, in your cabin, and you will pray for forgiveness.  If you are properly penitent in the morning, you may have breakfast with the rest of the campers.”

Sam uncoiled his long legs and stood up.  “That’s not _fair!_ ” he said.

“Nevertheless,” Brady said, “It’s how things are.  Now, Kevin, Alfie, Sam…get your shoes and let’s go.  I will show you where the dining hall is and in the future you will be expected to be there on time.”

Sam crossed his arms, a mulish set to his jaw.  “No.”

Brady lifted an eyebrow.  “No?”

“If Gabe can’t eat, I’m not eating either.”

Gabriel gulped.  He wasn’t going to be responsible for getting Sam in trouble.  “It’s okay,” he said to the taller boy.  “I had a big lunch.  I’ll be fine.  You go on.”

Sam shot him a disbelieving look and refused to move. 

Brady was glowering in the doorway, snapping orders at Kevin and Alfie, who were scrambling to get their shoes on and get out the door without looking at Gabriel.

Gabriel took a chance and rested his hand on Sam’s forearm.  “Listen,” he said urgently.  “Don’t do this.  One skipped meal won’t kill me.  _Please,_ Sam, just go.  Please?”

Sam hesitated, swinging his gaze between Brady and Gabriel.  Brady ushered the two younger boys out of the cabin and Gabriel pulled his hand back before Brady noticed them touching.

“Are you sure?” Sam asked quietly.

Gabriel nodded, smiling up at him.  “I’m sure,” he said.  “I’ll be fine. I’ll see you after dinner, yeah?”

Sam ran a hand through his hair and sighed.  “Okay.” He followed Brady out of the cabin with a quick look over his shoulder.

Gabriel waved goodbye and then sat down hard in the middle of the floor. His stomach growled and Gabriel wrapped his arms around his waist.  “You’ll live, now shut up,” he snarled.  God, he already hated Brady _and_ Zachariah.

He flopped over backwards, arms and legs splayed in all directions like a starfish in the middle of the cabin floor, and groaned at the ceiling. Shaking up the status quo was all well and good, but it didn’t put food in his increasingly unhappy stomach.

Gabriel sighed and closed his eyes.  He needed to write to Cas, tell him about his first day.  Of course, they probably censored the letters, which meant Gabriel would have to be very careful in what he said.  He began to mentally compose the letter, fingers twitching as he wrote it in his mind, and it wasn’t long before he dozed off.

He was still asleep on the floor when Sam came back.

“Gabe? Gabriel, wake up!”

There was a hand on his shoulder and Gabriel groaned, rolling away in protest. “Five more minutes, Mom.”

“I’ll make it worth your while if you’ll wake up,” a voice said in his ear, and warm breath tickled Gabriel’s cheek.  His eyes snapped open.  That was _not_ his mother’s voice.

He turned his head and – oh.  Sam was _right there,_ almost nose to nose with him, crouched on the floor.  This close, Gabriel could see that there was a ring of gold inside the vivid green of Sam’s eyes, and he swallowed hard.

Sam smiled and Gabriel caught his breath, sitting up and groaning a bit as his muscles protested.

“You okay?” Sam asked.

“Stupid place to sleep,” Gabriel admitted.  “My back may never forgive me.  What did you mean, you’d make it worth my while?”

“Oh, you heard that, did you?” Sam asked, lips twitching.  He began to unbutton his shirt and Gabriel’s eyes went wide.

“What are you _doing?_ ” he hissed, scrambling to his knees.

“Feeding you,” Sam said as he pulled a napkin-wrapped package from under his t-shirt and held it out.  “Almost everyone wanted to chip in a bit.  They all heard about the skin mag and you’re pretty much a god already.”

Gabriel opened the napkins and stared at the food in his lap.  There were several thick slabs of roast beef between slices of crusty homemade bread, a whole baked potato, a wedge of some kind of cheese, and…Gabriel unwrapped the small triangle and stared in disbelief at the apple pie within.

He looked up at Sam, who grinned at him.

“You…I could _kiss_ you,” Gabriel said fervently. He scooped up the sandwich and sank his teeth into it, moaning in bliss.  “Dear sweet merciful Creator, that’s the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth.”

Sam stood up hastily and Gabriel blinked up at him.  “Okay there?”

Sam nodded, clearing his throat.  “Just…making sure no one’s coming.  You hurry up and eat so we can get rid of the evidence.”

Gabriel nodded and turned his attention to the food, devouring it as quickly as possible. When he was done, he licked his fingers clean and sighed. 

“That was amazing,” he said, balling up the napkins.  Sam held out his hand and Gabriel deposited the wad into it, smiling at him.  “Thank you. Seriously, Sam. You could’ve gotten in a lot of trouble doing that.”

Sam closed his hand around the napkins, fingers brushing against Gabriel’s. “You’d have done the same for me, I’ll bet,” he said.  “I’m going to go flush these.  I don’t know how thoroughly they check the cabins but I think it’s best we don’t take chances.”

Gabriel watched him disappear into the darkness, heading for the communal bathrooms, and took a deep breath.  Maybe this camp wasn’t going to be the worst thing that had ever happened to him after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is worth noting that I'm not intending to step on anyone's toes in regards to their faith. As a Christian myself, I find the thought of camps like this completely abhorrent, which is part of why I wanted to write this. But I'm not actually setting out to offend - I know that not all Christians are like this.


	2. Chapter 2

A trumpet sounded Reveille the next morning and Sam jerked upright in his narrow bed, nearly hitting the ceiling.  _A trumpet?  Seriously?_   He glanced out the window.  It was the dark gray of pre-dawn, mist hanging low on the ground under the pine trees.

Sam stretched and swung his legs over the edge of his bed, hopping off the bunk and landing neatly on the floor.  Gabriel groaned and rolled over, tugging the covers up so that only tousled chestnut hair was visible above the blanket.

Sam bit his lip.  He was already way too attracted to the young man currently sound asleep in front of him, and he couldn’t afford any distractions.  He should distance himself from Gabriel, not become his friend.

But he kept remembering the vulnerable look in Gabriel’s eyes when Sam had tried to stand up to Brady for him.  Gabriel could posture all he wanted, but it was obvious to Sam that he was scared and lonely and desperately needed an ally.

Sam sighed and touched Gabriel’s shoulder.  “Time to get up,” he said.

Gabriel didn’t move.

Sam shook him a little.  “Gabriel. Gabe, if you don’t wake up, you may get in worse trouble.  C’mon man, please?”

The lump under the covers stayed stubbornly unconscious and Sam sighed again. Then he yanked the blankets off and Gabriel scrambled upright with a yelp of shock, golden eyes wide.

“Sorry,” Sam said, feeling like a jerk. 

Gabriel stared up at him, confusion written all over his mobile features.

“You’re…not a morning person, are you?” Sam said.  “You’re at Whispering Pines, otherwise known as Zachariah’s Camp For Horny Wayward Youths.  I’m Sam, we met yesterday, I’m your roommate, and it’s breakfast time.”

Gabriel slumped backward onto his pillow and rubbed his eyes.  “I was really hoping it was all a horrible dream,” he said.

“All of it?” Sam said, and wanted to kick himself.  Flirting was _not_ on his agenda, dammit.

Gabriel pulled his hands away from his face and met Sam’s eyes.  “No.  Not _all_ of it,” he said. 

Sam couldn’t help the thrill that went through him at that.  He covered with a cough and offered Gabriel a hand up.

“My bet is we’re supposed to be at Mess under our own power or miss breakfast,” Sam said as Gabriel stood up and began to rummage in the dresser for clothes. “And I wouldn’t be surprised if Zachariah is there, looking for proper penitence from you.”

“He’ll be looking for a while,” Gabriel muttered, dragging out a pair of jeans and a soft gray t-shirt.  “Think I have time for a quick shower before we eat?”

“I honestly have no idea,” Sam admitted.

“You do,” Kevin said.  He was sitting on his upper bunk, swinging his legs.  _Another morning person,_ Sam noted, amused. “We have thirty minutes after Reveille to wake up, shower and get dressed and be at Mess with bells on.”

Alfie yawned and stretched.  “I didn’t pack any bells,” he muttered.  His blond hair was standing on end and his eyes were bleary with sleep.

Kevin laughed and slid down the ladder to pat Alfie on the shoulder. “C’mon, dude, let’s go shower. I don’t want to miss breakfast.”

Alfie followed him out of the cabin, complaining as Kevin nodded sympathetically without really listening.  His voice faded into the distance and Sam glanced back at Gabriel.

The shorter boy had sat back down on the bed and was looking at his lap.

Sam sat down next to him.  “Hey,” he said quietly, “You alright?”

Gabriel nodded.  “Just…putting my game face on.”  He took a deep breath, looked up at Sam and smiled.

Sam felt like he’d been punched in the gut.  Mirth shone on Gabriel’s face, his mouth quirking up, eyes crinkling at the corners, the smile transforming his face from attractive to breathtaking. Even knowing it was an act, Sam couldn’t remember how to breathe or even why he’d want to.

The smile slipped and Gabriel began to look concerned.  “Sam?”

Sam shook himself.  “Yeah. Um.  Ready to shower?” 

Gabriel nodded and stood up.  “Let’s get this show on the road.” 

Sam fell into step beside him and they headed for the bathrooms.

 

Showered and dressed, Sam and Gabriel joined Kevin and Alfie and headed for Mess Hall. It was loud with raised voices and clattering silverware, and Sam quailed a little at the din.

“Sam? You okay?” Gabriel said.

“Fine,” Sam said.  “Just…not a fan of large crowds.”  _Or of people staring, or people in general, really._

Gabriel grinned up at him.  “I’ll protect you,” he promised.

“My hero,” Sam deadpanned.

“Damn straight,” Gabriel said, nodding.  “Although ‘straight’ might not have been the best word to use, considering why we’re here.”

Sam snickered and his tension eased.  He got in line behind Gabriel and they went down the row, getting their food.

Finding a table was a little trickier, but Gabriel eventually managed to snag an empty spot in the corner, sliding into place and scooting up against the camper next to him so Sam could squeeze in next to the wall.

Sam put his tray on the table and sat down on the bench, cramming his long legs into the space underneath.  He was pressed up against Gabriel in a line from hip to knee, and Sam swallowed hard. Even distracted by that, he couldn’t help the gratitude that spread through him at the way Gabriel had set himself up as a shield against the rest of the campers, giving Sam a sort of buffer zone.

“Hey,” the guy sitting across from Gabriel said.  “I’m Garth.  Didn’t see you at dinner last night.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t here,” Gabriel said, holding out his hand.  “I’m Gabriel.”

Garth shook his hand.  He was tall; close to Sam’s height but much skinnier, with ears that stood out almost perpendicular to his head, a bony nose, and warm brown eyes.  Despite his unfortunate looks, kindness shone on his face and Sam found himself liking him already.

Gabriel picked up a fork and dug into the mound of eggs, bacon, biscuits and gravy on his plate.  “Say whatever else you want about this place, the food is _amazing.”_ He closed his eyes and moaned as he chewed and Sam looked hastily away.  Gabriel and food was a dangerously arousing combination, he was discovering.

Garth was looking at Gabriel.  Suddenly he snapped his fingers.  “Wait, you’re _Gabriel!”_

“Pretty sure we just established that,” Gabriel said, mouth full.

“No, I mean you’re the one that smuggled in the porn!” Garth said.

“Oh.” Gabriel swallowed his food and nodded.  “Guilty.  Literally.”

“Man, you are my _hero,_ ” Garth said. He leaned over the table. “I don’t suppose you have any extra copies stashed somewhere?”

Gabriel nearly choked on a forkful of eggs and Sam pounded him on the back, stifling his laughter. 

Gabriel wiped his streaming eyes, catching his breath.  “No, Garth, I’m terribly sorry to report that I did _not_ bring more than one copy of hardcore gay bondage porn to camp with me.  I hope that you can forgive me.  _Next_ time I’ll remember to bring enough for everyone.”

“Hey, never hurts to ask,” Garth said cheerfully.  He nudged his neighbor in the ribs.  “Dude, this is Gabriel!  _The_ Gabriel!”

The young black man’s eyes widened and he held out his hand to Gabriel, who took it bemusedly. 

“No shit? I’m Dylan.  It’s an honor to meet you!”  Dylan’s hair was cut close to his skull, his eyes a startlingly pale shade of green that were set off perfectly by his dark skin. He was leaning forward to talk to Gabriel and Sam applied himself to his food, grateful that the attention wasn’t on him.

Gabriel’s hand touched his briefly and Sam started, looking up.

“This is Sam,” Gabriel said.  “He’s my roommate.” Sam was pretty sure he was imagining the pride in Gabriel’s voice.

“You’re the one that was getting the food together for Gabe last night, aren’t you?” Garth asked.

“Does everyone know about that?” Sam asked.  “Shit. I don’t _actually_ want to be thrown in the gulag.”

“It was for a worthy cause,” Gabriel assured him, laughing.  “I’ll visit you every day and smuggle you a file baked into an apple pie.”

The boy on Dylan’s other side leaned forward.  He was short – almost as short as Gabriel – with sandy blond hair and vividly blue eyes.  “You brought him _food_ when he was supposed to be fasting?”

“This is Martin,” Dylan said, and the longsuffering tone of his voice told Sam all he needed to know about Martin.

A gong sounded before Sam could respond, though, and all the boys looked up. Zachariah was standing at the far end of the room on a small dais.  He gazed out over the crowd of young men with a benevolent smile on his face and Sam stifled disgust as he began to speak.

“Good morning, campers!” Zachariah waited until he got a ragged chorus of responses before he continued.  “In a few minutes, we’ll begin clearing the tables and you will go to your assigned classes. If you are in an Old Testament cabin, you are having archery.  If you are in a New Testament cabin, you will be having rock-climbing. The counselors are waiting outside for you.  When you are finished eating, please take your plate, utensil and glass to the bins by the door and then line up with your respective group.  Have a blessed day!”

“It’ll be ‘blessed’ if you fall in the lake,” Gabriel muttered. He looked up.  “Does this place _have_ a lake?”

“Yep,” Garth said happily.  “We’re s’posed to go canoeing later in the week!”

“Are you this excited about everything?” Gabriel asked. 

Dylan snorted.  “I’ve only known him since last night but I can already answer that with a resounding _yes._   He’s happier than anyone I’ve ever met.  Pretty sure I’m going to smother him with a pillow before the summer is over.”

Garth beamed at them.  “You _guys…_ you’re so funny!”

“See what I mean?” Dylan said.

Sam struggled to keep his face straight as they gathered up their plates and silverware and headed for the door, Gabriel leading the way.  Zachariah caught Gabriel’s arm as they passed and Gabriel froze. Sam stopped too, trying not to look like he was eavesdropping as he waited a few feet away.

“Gabriel,” Zachariah said.

_He all but oozed smarminess,_ Sam thought, disgusted.

“I trust you’ve repented of your sin and are prepared to work hard to make up for it?” Zachariah said.

Sam could see the tenseness in Gabriel’s shoulders, but the shorter boy just nodded earnestly. 

“I’ve seen the error of my ways,” he said.  “Nothing but piety and repentance for me from here on out.”

Zachariah narrowed his eyes, searching Gabriel’s face, but whatever he saw seemed to satisfy him. He let go with a sharp nod.

“I’ve got my eye on you, Mr. Milton,” he said.  “Be on your way.”

Gabriel escaped, Sam on his heels.  They emerged into the bright morning sun and milled around for a minute, looking for their group. 

“Did you mean that?” Sam asked.

Gabriel shot him a look.  “What do _you_ think?”

“I think it’s important he be off-guard for whatever you’re planning next,” Sam said.

Gabriel grinned.  “Now you’re getting it!”

Martin dashed up to them, panting.  “You talked to Zachariah?”

“Yeah…” Gabriel said, wary.  “Why?”

“What did he say?  Did he mention me? Is he nice?”

Gabriel held up three fingers, folding each down in turn.  “One – none of your business.  Two – why the _hell_ would he mention you?  Three – I’ll…answer that one when I can lie with a straight face.”

Martin glowered at him.  “Zachariah is a great man,” he informed them both, and stalked away.

Garth waved them over, a huge smile on his face.

“We’re learning archery this morning, you guys, isn’t that _great?_ ”

Gabriel groaned.  “Garth, don’t take this wrong, but I hate you a little bit.”

“Aw, you don’t mean that!” Garth said, and wrapped an arm around Gabriel’s shoulders, lifting him off the ground.

Gabriel squawked and flailed.  “Put me _down,_ you giant ape!” Feet safely back on the ground, he glared up into Garth’s repentant face.  “I may be fun-sized but I am _not a toy,_ you got me?”

Garth held up a hand, three fingers together in the Boy Scout salute. “Got it.  Sorry.  No more manhandling.”

Sam fell into step beside Gabriel as their counselor – _not Brady,_ Sam noted with relief – led them around the back of the dining hall, through the trees toward the archery range.

“No manhandling at all?” he asked in a low voice.

Gabriel shot him a startled look.  Then he grinned. “That’s a Garth-specific rule. I make it up on a case-by-case basis.”

“So what’s the Sam-specific rule?” Sam asked.  He was grinning too, even as he told himself he was being stupid and he had to _stop,_ that this flirting was only going to muddy the waters and make it harder for him to do what he’d come to camp to do.

“I think,” Gabriel was saying judiciously, “Yes, I think the Sam-specific rule is that manhandling is _definitely_ allowed under certain circumstances.”

Sam stepped over a tree root and held a branch up for Gabriel to duck under. “And what circumstances would those be?” he asked.

Gabriel bumped him with his shoulder.  “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?” he said.

 

Archery was more fun than Sam expected it to be, despite or possibly _because_ of the way Gabriel was complaining that Garth was going to shoot someone’s eye out any minute and whose idea was it to give the kid a _weapon,_ anyway, and he hoped the camp had good lawyers, because _someone_ was going to get sued.

When Garth scored a perfect bull’s-eye on his fifth try, Gabriel cheered louder than anyone, and Sam grinned so hard his face hurt. 

Gabriel took his turn next, stepping up to the mark and drawing the bowstring gingerly a few times before confiding to Sam that he couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn, assuming he could _find_ the broad side of a barn. 

Then he nocked, drew and released three arrows in quick succession, all three thudding into the red center of the target.

Garth broke the stunned silence with a loud whoop.  “That’s my friend!” he shouted, and Sam burst out laughing.

“You _sneak,_ ” he said to Gabriel, who shrugged, grinning.

“Archery classes starting when I was eight years old, till I put my foot down last year. Did wonders for my upper body strength, though.  I could probably bench-press you.”

“I’m twice your size!” Sam protested.

“It’s all about where you put your hands, Sammy,” Gabriel said, and waggled his eyebrows.

Sam could _feel_ the blush that crept up his face at that and Gabriel snickered, handing him the bow.

“Your turn, Gigantor.  Show me what you’ve got.”

Sam turned the bow over, dubious.  “Do they have anything a little bigger?  I feel like I’m gonna break this damn thing.”

Unfortunately, their counselor, Noah, was close enough by then to overhear. “ _Language,_ ” he snapped.

Sam ducked his head.  “Sorry,” he mumbled.

Noah glared at him for a moment and then switched his disapproving gaze to Gabriel, who was standing beside Sam attempting to look innocent.

“Gabriel, is it?  You appear to know how to handle a bow. Why don’t you help Samuel here with his technique?”

“It’s just Sam,” Sam mumbled, but Noah didn’t hear him, pacing away in a measured stroll, hands clasped behind his back.

Gabriel stepped a little closer and Sam swallowed.

“Foot position first,” Gabriel said.  He demonstrated how to stand and Sam copied him, feeling like an idiot. “Now, the bow. You hold it like this,” Gabriel said, and held the bow up, closing Sam’s fingers around the grip. Sam was _not_ appreciating how warm Gabriel’s hands were. Definitely not. “There you go,” Gabriel said. “Now, you’re right-handed, so you’re going to draw and pull with that hand.  Rest the arrow on the fingers of your left hand – _don’t_ draw the bowstring back yet, you dingbat!  Do you _want_ to shoot Dylan in the ass?  I mean hey, maybe he’s into that sort of thing, but just in case he’s not, let’s avoid the lawsuit, okay?”

Dylan glanced over his shoulder at them.  “Dylan’s ass would indeed appreciate staying arrowless,” he said dryly, and Sam grinned at him.

“Sorry,” he said, and focused on Gabriel again.

“Okay, now you don’t want to hold the arrow with your left hand. More…guide it. So keep your grip like this-” He demonstrated, glancing at Sam to make sure he was paying attention.

Sam nodded. “I follow,” he said.

“Good,” Gabriel said.  “Now, take the arrow off the bow.”  He raised an eyebrow at Sam’s surprise.  “Oh please. Like I’m going to let a newbie draw a bow without teaching you how first?  Now, straighten your left arm and draw your right hand back to your jaw. We’re just going to do this once, because it’s hell on your back to do it too often, but I want you to get a feel for the tension.”

Sam obeyed, focused on drawing back the bowstring.  “It’s hard!” he said, startled.

“Well duh,” Gabriel said.  “Can’t get very far with a loose string.  Also, consider that your one free pass.  If you ever say the word ‘hard’ around me again, I will make every dirty joke I can think of, and I can think of a _lot._ You’ve been warned. Now, feel how your hand lines up with your jaw, there?”  He put his hand on Sam’s elbow, pushing it into the proper position.

Sam nodded, biting his lip.

“Good. Now, you’re holding the bowstring too shallowly.  Look.” Gabriel took the bow away and cupped his fingers around the string.

“But wouldn’t it be faster to let it slip off your first finger joints?” Sam asked, mostly to prove he was actually paying attention and not fixating on Gabriel’s very strong hands as they flexed on the bow.

“You can’t grip it properly that way,” Gabriel said.  “Hold it like this or you really _will_ shoot Dylan in the ass.  Which apparently he’s not into.  Killjoy.”

Sam grinned, tongue caught between his teeth as he took the bow back and drew the string again.  This time he did it right and Gabriel handed him the arrow.

“Okay, nock it and draw the string back – if you release that arrow I will _beat_ you with it, Sam, _don’t you dare._ ” Gabriel glared at him and Sam lowered the bow to laugh at the outrage on the shorter boy’s face.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped.  “I just…your face!” He dissolved into hiccupping giggles and Gabriel’s lips twitched.

“You’re going to kill someone yet,” he growled.

By now most of the other boys had finished shooting their allotted arrows and were gathering in an interested group to watch Gabriel’s tutelage.  Sam glanced around, suddenly uneasy, and Gabriel followed his eyes.

“Back off, guys,” he snapped.  “Give him room to breathe.  Also, it might be safer unless you prefer a ventilated skin suit – it’s anyone’s guess what he’s actually going to _do_ with that arrow.”

That had the intended effect of easing Sam’s tension and he turned back to the target.

“Turn your hips,” Gabriel said from behind him, and then his hands were on Sam’s hips, moving him into the proper position.

Sam’s mouth was dry as he allowed himself to be maneuvered into place.

“Good,” Gabriel said.  “Now, line up the arrow. From this distance, you want it to be just a little above the bull’s-eye.  Take a deep breath and draw your string.”

Sam obeyed, barely aware of the target, the whole of his being focused on the young man standing right behind him, speaking into his ear.

“When you’re ready,” Gabriel murmured, “You’re going to exhale and release the string as you’re breathing out.  On your mark.”

Sam let out his breath, fingers sliding off the string, and watched in a daze as the arrow streaked through the air and landed with a thunk in the white ring of the target.  Whoops and cheering erupted around him and Gabriel slapped him on the back, grinning.

“You’re a natural, kiddo,” he said.

Sam grinned back at him, lightheaded.  “Or maybe you’re just a good teacher.”

Martin raised his hand and Noah nodded at him.

“Does Gabriel really need to stand so close to Sam?” Martin asked. “I’m just concerned about personal space issues.”

Noah looked at Sam and Gabriel, who took a step backward at the same time, studiously avoiding everyone’s gaze.

“That’s better,” Noah said.  “Line up, you have rock-climbing next.”

“And remember to leave room for Jesus,” Gabriel muttered under his breath.

Sam snorted a laugh as they began to walk.


	3. Chapter 3

Lunch was a raucous affair, Gabriel and Sam sitting with their newfound friends, trading war stories over their pizza and collapsing with laughter at each other’s jokes.  Gabriel put Sam on the end of the bench again, shielding him from the worst of the rowdiness, but he was delighted to see that Sam gave as good as he got when anyone spoke to him.

Currently, he was describing how his older brother, Dean, had reacted when he’d discovered that Sam had a crush on Dean’s friend.  Gabriel’s heart sank a little at that, even as he laughed at Sam’s exaggerated portrayal of Dean’s horror.

“It wasn’t that Dean really cared that I wasn’t straight,” Sam hastened to add. “It was more that now he had to wonder if I was checking out his friends.  Which I totally was, of course.”

Everyone laughed and Sam leaned in to Gabriel, close enough that Gabriel could feel Sam’s warm breath when he spoke.

“I don’t have a crush on that guy anymore,” he murmured.

Gabriel’s heart lifted and he glanced at Sam, who grinned at him.

“Oh yeah?” Gabriel said, affecting nonchalance.  “And why’s that?”

“Well, see, back then I had a thing for tall guys.  I was self-conscious about my height and I figured being with another tall guy would make me stand out less.” Sam propped his elbows on the table, resting his chin on his hands.

“And now?” Gabriel prompted.

“Hm? Oh.  I’ve recently rethought my stance on only dating tall people,” Sam said with a wicked grin.  “Height differences can be…intriguing, I think.”

Gabriel kept his face straight with an effort and reached for his drink, downing it in several swift gulps.  Next to him, Sam snickered and stretched one long arm out for another piece of pizza from the plate in the middle of their table.

A heavy hand descended on Gabriel’s shoulder and he flinched, recoiling into Sam’s side.

Zachariah was smiling down at him.  “Gabriel, how is your first day going?”

“It’s…fine,” Gabriel said.  “Sir.”

“Good, good,” Zachariah said.  “Don’t forget you’re to report to the stables immediately after lunch.  I trust we’ll have no more…incidents?”

“Absolutely not,” Gabriel said.  “Straight and narrow from now on.  Emphasis on the straight.”

Sam spluttered into his drink but Gabriel kept the earnest, slightly stupid look on his face until Zachariah nodded and removed his hand. 

“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” he said.  “Perhaps we’ll take a week off that sentence if you work hard and prove to us that you really are sorry.”

He patted Gabriel’s shoulder and stalked away down the aisle. Gabriel watched him, lip curling. Smarmy, irritating, smug _bastard._

“He’s a peach, isn’t he?” Sam remarked.

Gabriel just grunted and took a vicious bite out of his pizza.

Martin was watching Zachariah leave, intense hero-worship on his face. “Zachariah _cares_ about us,” he said.  “He’s trying to help us become…better.”

Gabriel caught Sam’s eye and shook his head a fraction.  _Do not engage the fanatic._

 

He showed up to the stables as ordered, a little wary.  He _liked_ horses, but he’d never had the chance to be around any.  He had no idea what he was in for.

The stable itself wasn’t huge; only five stalls on either side of the broad aisle. The air smelled like hay and horses and Gabriel took a deep breath.

“Hello?” he called.

A woman popped her head out of the hayloft and Gabriel jumped.

“You must be Gabriel,” she said.  “I’ll be right down!” 

She disappeared and Gabriel waited, shifting his weight.  The horse in the stall closest to him hung his (her?) head over the door and nudged Gabriel’s arm, clearly hoping for treats. Gabriel petted its velvety nose.

“Sorry, gorgeous, I don’t have anything edible on me,” he said.

Feet hit the aisle floor behind him and Gabriel turned to face the woman. She was smiling and holding out a hand for Gabriel to shake, laugh-lines creased around warm brown eyes in a no-nonsense face.

“I’m Ellen,” she said.  “I understand you’re gonna be my helper for the next week at least, is that right?”

“Yes ma’am,” Gabriel said, shaking her hand.  “But I don’t know anything about horses.”

“You know what shit looks like, don’t you?”

Gabriel blinked and Ellen laughed.  “Wipe that expression off your face, boy; you’re a lot cuter when you look less like a stunned guppy.”

Gabriel was fighting back a smile.  He already liked this breezy, matter-of-fact woman.

“Come on, I’ll show you where we keep the pitchforks and wheelbarrow. You’re on stall duty.”

Gabriel followed her to the storage shed as she explained her duties and what would be expected of him.

“Normally I’d have you help me tack and untack the horses, but I’ll have to teach you how to do that.  Turning you loose with thousand pound animals that’ll as soon step on you as look at you isn’t the best idea until you know how to avoid those feet and not let ‘em pull anything over on you.”

Gabriel put the pitchfork in the wheelbarrow and rolled it into the stable, Ellen still talking.

“Just open the stall door, park the wheelbarrow in front, and fill it that way. The horses won’t try to get out as long as it’s blocking the door.”

“You…want me to go in there with them?” Gabriel asked, swallowing hard.

Ellen fixed him with a sharp eye.  “You afraid of ‘em, boy?”

“Not… _afraid,_ ” Gabriel said. “More like…um…they’re just really big. And I’m…not.”

Ellen smiled at him.  “You’ll be fine. They’ll frisk you for cookies, but otherwise they’ll stay out of your way.  All except for Dylan, of course.  Don’t put the fork down in his stall or he’ll try to clean for you.”

“Seriously?” Gabriel asked.

“Yep. He’s a clown.  Likes to steal the pitchfork and try to scoop his own shit. He doesn’t have opposable thumbs, so he doesn’t get very far, but doesn’t stop him from trying!”

Gabriel had a feeling he was going to like Dylan.  He listened as Ellen demonstrated how to scoop up the leavings without taking too many shavings with them, and then he set to work.

It took him awhile to get the hang of the pitchfork, but he settled into a groove and let his mind wander as he rhythmically scooped and dumped, periodically heading out to the manure pile behind the barn to empty the barrow.

The archery lesson that morning had been more fun than Gabriel expected. He still wasn’t sure how he’d managed to keep his voice and hands steady, getting to touch Sam, having an actual legitimate reason to feel those hipbones under his fingers, hearing the catch in Sam’s breathing as Gabriel moved him into position.

Gabriel took a deep breath, attempting to steady his heart rate. That was a bad move, he discovered when he inhaled roughly a pound of sawdust shaving and promptly went into a sneezing fit.

The big brown horse in the stall with him stared at Gabriel as he sneezed repeatedly, staggering over to lean against the wall as he convulsed helplessly with each spasm.

“Gabe?”

Gabriel scrambled upright.  Sam was staring at him, matching the horse’s worried expression.

“Sa – _achoo!_   What… _choo_ are you _choo_ …ing here?”

“Mostly? Trying to figure out if I need to call an ambulance or perform CPR myself,” Sam said.  His lips were twitching but he still looked concerned.

Gabriel wiped his streaming eyes.  _Really attractive, Milton._ “I’m fine,” he said.  “Just got a nose full of sawdust.  Seriously, don’t you have classes or something?”

“Well, yeah,” Sam said.  “Horseback riding.”

“Oh.” Gabriel gnawed on his lip, feeling like an idiot.  Now that he was over the sneezing fit, he realized there were other boys milling around, looking in the stall doors at the horses.

Sam grinned at him.  “How many stalls do you have left to do?”

“This is the last one.”

“Good! You can help me tack up my horse. Ellen said for me to ride Dozer, because he’s the only one that’ll take up my leg.”

Gabriel couldn’t stop the look he gave to Sam’s very nice legs.  “Take up…what does that _mean,_ exactly?”

“It means that when I ride him, my toes won’t be dragging in the dirt,” Sam said. He stepped into the stall and held out his hand, palm down, to the big horse, who sniffed it politely. “Oh, you’re lovely, aren’t you?” Sam rubbed the horse’s neck, sliding his hands down the satiny skin of its shoulder and then down to pick up a hoof and inspect the bottom of it before straightening to continue running his palms up and over the horse’s back.

It was official; Gabriel was jealous of a horse.  This was a new low for him.

“You actually know what to do around horses?” Gabriel asked.

Sam smiled as he moved to the horse’s other side.  “I spent the summer on a dude ranch in Wyoming with my family a few years ago.  I fell in love with horses then and I begged my parents for lessons when we got home. I’ve been riding ever since.” He reached around Gabriel for the halter that hung outside the stall and turned back to Dozer, who heaved a longsuffering sigh and allowed Sam to slip the leather over his head and buckle it.

“Ellen’s helping the others but I told her I could tack Dozer up myself. Since you’re done, you wanna keep me company?”

 _Did pigs fly?_ _Well, okay, they didn’t,_ Gabriel thought as he followed Sam and Dozer out of the stall.  _But still._ Try _and keep him away from Sam freakin’ Winchester._

Sam put Dozer in the crossties at the end of the barn and began currying the horse as he spoke to Gabriel, who did his best to look like he was listening and not imagining all the things Sam’s hands could do to him.

“Dozer’s a bay gelding.  I’m not sure what breed, but he’s definitely got draft in him.”

“Did someone leave a window open?” Gabriel asked, and snorted.

Sam groaned. “That was _bad._ The drafts are the heavy breeds; Percherons, Shires, etc.”

“Oh, like the Budweiser horses?” Gabriel asked.

Sam gave him a delighted grin and Gabriel preened.

“Yes, those are Clydesdales!” Sam said.  “Although they’re considered a lighter draft.  Did you know that medieval knights used to ride drafts into battle? They needed horses strong enough to lug all that armor around.”

Sam kept talking but Gabriel forgot to listen.  He was too busy watching the muscles in Sam’s back move as he brushed the big horse, the way his deft hands held the brush and swept affectionately over Dozer’s gleaming coat.

“Gabe?” Sam’s voice cut through Gabriel’s reverie, and he blinked.

“Uh…”

“Did you hear a word I’ve been saying?” Sam asked.

Gabriel tried a conciliatory smile.  “Something about knights…and armor?”

“That was at least five minutes ago!” Sam said, laughing.

Sure enough, Dozer had a saddle on and was looking less and less enthused about his afternoon outing.

“Oh,” Gabriel said.  “Sorry.”

“Where did you go?” Sam asked, stepping a little closer.

Gabriel looked up at him.  This close, he could smell Sam’s spicy aftershave and he took a deep breath.

“Maybe someday I’ll show you,” he murmured.

Sam’s eyes darkened and he opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by the sound of approaching voices.  He took a rapid step back and was inspecting Dozer’s girth when Ellen came around the corner into the barn, Dylan, Martin and several others on her heels. Martin’s eyes darted between Sam and Gabriel, narrowed with suspicion, but he said nothing.

“Stalls done?” Ellen asked Gabriel, who nodded. 

She came over to double-check Sam’s work on Dozer and shot him an approving glance. “You really do know what you’re doing,” she said.  “Any chance you’d like to help me out in the afternoons sometimes?”

“I’d actually love that,” Sam said immediately and without looking at Gabriel, who cleared his throat.

“I, uh…forgot to put the wheelbarrow away.  I’ll go do that.” He escaped down the aisle, head swimming.

 

He didn’t get a chance to watch Sam ride.  As soon as the stalls were finished and Ellen had the boys up on the horses, she told Gabriel he was free to go back to his cabin. 

“See you tomorrow,” Gabriel said, wishing he could argue, could stay and watch Sam on his horse, do _anything_ but sit in his cabin and stagnate.  But arguing would get him nowhere and he knew it.  So he headed back towards the lodge, dragging his feet.

He could hear voices shouting and laughing in the distance; there was a paintball course on the other side of the campground and a lively war was in full swing. Gabriel ignored the commotion, trudging into the cabin and shutting the door behind him.

Silence greeted him and his lip curled.  _Ugh, silence. Personal nightmare._ Gabriel headed for the bag by his bed and dug out a writing pad and pencil.  Castiel would be anxiously awaiting a letter with plenty of detail.

Gabriel sat down at the desk in the corner of the room and gnawed on the pencil, staring at the empty paper.  Why hadn’t he thought to work out a secret code with Cas before he’d left? This was why he’d be a crappy spy.

He sighed and bent to his work.

_Dear Castiel,_

_Well, I’m here and I’m still alive, so that’s good, right?  The bus ride was long and really boring.  I’ve already made a few friends, though.  There’s Sam, who’s in my cabin with me, and Kevin and Alfie, they’re our roommates too. Dylan and Garth are in the Leviticus cabin.  We had archery this morning. I got to show off – you know how much I love doing that._

_The food here is amazing. I expected it to be pigswill but it’s actually fantastic._

_I miss you, Castiel. Please write me soon. Are Mom and Dad missing me?_

_Love,_

_Gabriel_

He folded up the letter and pushed it into the envelope, addressing it with quick, neat strokes.  He’d have to buy stamps from the little commissary in the main lodge – he’d forgotten to bring any with him.

Sighing, Gabriel stood up and opened the door to the cabin.  Brady was sitting on the porch and he turned and looked up when Gabriel appeared.

“Going somewhere?” he inquired. 

Thank God Gabriel still had the letter in his hand.  He held it up with an innocent air.  “I don’t have any stamps.  I wanted to get this in the mail before I miss the post.”

Brady stood and held out his hand.  “I’ll take care of it.  You are to stay in your cabin. Did you bring a Bible?”

Gabriel nodded.  It had been on the list of required items.

“Good. Then read your Bible, meditate on your sins, and stay inside.  When it’s dinnertime, you may join the others to eat and then it’s straight back here.”

Gabriel kept his face blank, hiding the seething fury that twisted inside him. This wasn’t _fair._ He hadn’t asked to be here, didn’t deserve this, and they were treating him like…like a criminal!

He just nodded, though, and backed into the cabin, shutting the door smartly behind him. He flopped down on his bed and scowled at the bottom of Sam’s bunk.  He was going to have to be very careful for the next week, or he wouldn’t be able to play out the next part of his plan.

The week dragged by.  Gabriel kept his head down and his flirting with Sam to a minimum even though it nearly killed him not to respond to those bright green eyes sparking with mirth.  It would be worse to be separated because they were getting “inappropriately close”, and he already knew Martin had laser-vision when it came to impropriety.

Sam stayed by his side, joking and laughing as he had almost from the start, but Gabriel found himself wanting to kiss the smile off that gorgeous mouth, to pin the taller boy down and explore every inch of his beautiful body, and the tension was beginning to get to him.

“Now Gabriel,” Zachariah had said when he called him into his office the day before, “I hope you’ve learned your lesson and are truly sorry.”

Gabriel stopped looking around the leather and mahogany appointed room and focused on the condescending smile of the man behind the desk.

“Yes…sir,” he said earnestly.  “It was a stupid prank and I hope you can forgive me.”

Zachariah’s smile widened.  “I’m sure we will. Enjoy the rest of your time here and remember, you _can_ get better. It’s all in your attitude.”

Gabriel seethed but nodded, making his escape as soon as he could.

Sam was waiting for him outside.  Gabriel met his eyes and grinned and Sam’s face lit up.

“ _Yes!_ ”

Gabriel laughed, relief making him feel buoyant.  “We can go hiking in the woods now,” he said.

“Canoeing!” Sam said.

“Ellen told me we can take Dozer and Dylan on a trail-ride together,” Gabriel added, and Sam smiled even wider.

“You’re free!” He made as if to reach for Gabriel’s hand and Gabriel coughed, cutting his eyes towards Zachariah’s windows.

Sam sighed and stopped himself.  “Ready for lunch? I think today’s the day we’re going out on the lake.”

Gabriel nodded and together they headed for the mess hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note: Dylan exists. He had to stay inside during the day because he was pure white and sunburned badly, so I cleaned his stall with him in it. I put the fork down to do something once, turned around and he had it between his teeth, raking the stall for me. 
> 
> Second cutest horse ever.


	4. Chapter 4

Garth hailed them when they walked into the dining room.  He’d saved the two seats by the wall and as usual, Gabriel waited for Sam to slide in first before sitting down between him and Garth, who was beaming from ear to ear.

Sam glanced at Gabriel, who quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Think we should ask him why he’s so happy?” Gabriel asked.  “Or should we time him and see how long it takes before he spontaneously combusts?”

Sam pretended to think about it as Garth vibrated next to Gabriel and Dylan grinned from across the table.

“Oh, might as well ask him,” Sam finally said carelessly.  “The other way would be a bitch of a mess.”

Next to Dylan, Martin narrowed his eyes and Sam winced internally. Martin kept a running tally of bad language and reported it to the instructors every chance he got.

Gabriel was asking Garth why he was excited and Sam forced his attention to the conversation at hand.

“We’re going out on the lake this afternoon!” Garth said.  “Isn’t that _great?_ ”

“That’s why you’re excited?” Gabriel asked.  “I thought maybe you’d won the lottery or inherited a huge windfall or _something._ So all this…” He waved his hand vaguely in Garth’s direction. “Is because we’re going to get in little floating vessels of doom and paddle out onto a lake that could harbor the Loch Ness monster, for all we know?  Do you have any _idea_ how many natural predators live in freshwater lakes?”

“You don’t like the water?” Sam asked, his heart sinking.  He suddenly realized he’d been looking forward to sharing a boat with the shorter boy.

Gabriel glanced up at him and hastily backtracked.  “I’m…not a fan,” he said.  “But everyone has to get over their fears at some point, right?”

“So you’ll go canoeing with me?” Sam said.

“If you can guarantee I won’t get eaten by a water moccasin or an alligator, yeah, I’ll go,” Gabriel said.

“I wouldn’t put it in writing,” Sam said, “But I’ll be as careful as possible.”

“Now you’re _my_ hero,” Gabriel said, and they grinned at each other.

 

They went back to their cabins to change and Sam sat down on the lower bunk and waited for Gabriel to rummage through the lower drawers to find t-shirt and shorts. He came up holding them and began unbuttoning his shirt, telling Sam about his one and only disastrous attempt at rafting. 

“Cas, that’s my brother Castiel – he talked me into going when we went on vacation in Colorado,” he said, fingers busy on the buttons. “We had an accident and the boat turned over, dumped us out.”

Sam nodded, pulling out his own clothes and focusing on getting changed. He glanced up at Gabriel, who had his shirt off and had turned around to pull flip-flops out of his bag, and he froze.

There were bruises mottling Gabriel’s back and sides, yellow and green around the edges and darker purplish-blue in the middles.

“ _Jesus,_ Gabe,” Sam breathed.

Gabriel whipped around, startled, and followed Sam’s eyes downward to his ribs. “Oh,” he said. He looked up.  “I forgot about those.”

“What happened?” Sam asked. 

“Would you believe I fell down the stairs?” Gabriel said.

“If it were the truth,” Sam said.  He stood up and closed the distance between them.  Gabriel’s throat worked as Sam reached out with one hand and touched one of the bruises with a careful finger.   Gabriel shivered and pulled away and Sam snatched his hand back, mortified.

“Oh God, I’m sorry!” he said.  “I shouldn’t have…I shouldn’t have touched…”

Gabriel caught his wrist and Sam froze again, focused on the strong fingers wrapped around his arm. 

“You don’t ever have to apologize for touching me, Sam,” Gabriel said, his voice low.

Sam’s ears were ringing in the silence that surrounded them.  “Gabe,” he managed, “Who did this to you?”

Gabriel glanced back down at his torso and shrugged, letting go of Sam’s wrist to pull his shirt over his head.  “My dad and I had a disagreement before I left,” he said as he emerged through the neck-hole of the t-shirt.  “He gave me one more chance to ‘change my sinful ways’, as he put it.  I politely told him he could go fuck himself and may have suggested several different implements he could use for maximum effect. He lost his temper.” He lifted a shoulder. “I’ll heal.  It’s no big deal, Sam.  And if we’re being fair, I can be _really_ irritating.”

Sam swallowed back the fury that threatened to choke him.  “I don’t care _how_ irritating you are,” he snarled.  “There is _no excuse_ for that…that…” He waved a hand at Gabriel’s now-covered body.

Gabriel was still for a moment, staring up at him with something like wonder in his eyes. “It actually bothers you,” he breathed.

“Of course it fucking bothers me!” Sam snapped.  “It should bother you too!”

Gabriel grimaced.  “What do you suggest I do about it, Samsquatch?  He’s twice my size.  And it doesn’t happen very often. This is the first time this year that he’s touched me in anger.  I’ve learned to stay out of his way, but I forgot and I sassed him back.” He tried for a nonchalant shrug but Sam could see the pain in his eyes.  “I had it coming.”

Sam had him by the arms before Gabriel could react, leaning in until their face were only inches apart.  Sam held him there, his hands gentle so Gabriel could break away if he felt he needed to, but the shorter boy just gasped and stilled in his grip.

“You _never_ have something like this coming,” Sam whispered.  He locked his eyes on Gabriel’s, willing him to believe him, to accept this. “You _never_ deserve to be touched in any way you don’t want.”

Gabriel swallowed hard, still pliant in Sam’s grip.  “What if I want _you_ to touch me?” he husked.

He was so close.  All Sam had to do was lower his head an inch and they’d be kissing.  He closed his eyes on a groan.  “Jesus, Gabe.” He summoned up the last of his willpower and stepped back, letting Gabriel go.

Gabriel straightened his clothes, his lips twitching, and lay down on the bed to wait for Sam to get ready.  Sam kept sneaking sideways glances at the young man as he dressed.

“Are you checking me out or making sure I’m alright?” Gabriel asked. He was prone on the mattress, arms behind his head.

Sam flushed. “I, um…”

Gabriel propped himself up on his elbows.  “Because for the record, I am very okay with the former, somewhat less okay with the latter.”

The door swung open and Kevin glared at them.  “Everyone’s down at the lake, what’s _taking_ so long?”

“I couldn’t find my shoes,” Sam said, thanking Heaven that he’d been on the other side of the room from Gabriel and not still millimeters from kissing his brains out. _Three minutes earlier…_

“Well, get a move on,” Kevin snapped.  “Some of us want to get out on the water before we die of old age.”

Gabriel quirked an eyebrow Sam’s direction.  “Shall we?”

Sam gestured toward the door.  “Lay on, Macduff.”

“Oh, nice,” Gabriel said as Sam shut the door behind them.  “Shakespeare too, huh?  Is there nothing you can’t do, Sammy?”

“Dance the tango,” Sam said.  “It keeps me up at night, it really does.”

 

They gathered at the water’s edge and Sam noticed that Gabriel stayed close to his side, his shoulders tense. 

“You don’t have to do this,” Sam said quietly as the instructor showed them how to hold the oars.

Gabriel took a steadying breath.  “No, I want to,” he said.

He settled down in the front of the canoe and Sam pushed it into the water, clambering in after him.  Gabriel’s knuckles were white on the rim of the little craft, but he said nothing, waiting for Sam to tell him what to do.

“I’m in the back, so I’ll steer,” Sam said.  “Hold the oar the way the instructor showed us.  Don’t dip it too far into the water or you’ll overbalance us. Smooth, steady strokes.” He was gratified to hear a small snicker escape and some of the tension ease from Gabriel’s shoulders. “If you say ‘that’s what he said’,” Sam continued, “I will _dunk_ you.”

Gabriel laughed outright and he began to paddle.  It didn’t take long for him to get the hang of it, and soon they were moving out onto the lake at a slow but steady pace.  Canoes with boys in them spread in all directions, water splashing and laughter ringing across the lake.

“Doing okay?” Sam asked when they were far from any listening ears.

Gabriel glanced over his shoulder and smiled at him.  “This is more fun than I expected,” he admitted. “Except I don’t really like my view. Do you think I can turn around or will I capsize us?”

“Do it slowly and you should be fine,” Sam said.

Gabriel obeyed, shipping his paddle and turning to swing his legs around. The canoe rocked and he gasped, freezing, but when they stayed upright, he kept going until he was facing Sam, grinning in triumph.

Sam grinned back at him.  “Well done. Although the view is much better facing forward.  Now you’re looking back at the camp.  Not much to see there.”

Gabriel’s eyes darkened.  “I’m not looking at the camp, Sam.”

_Oh._   Sam sat a little straighter, suddenly unsure what to do with his hands.

Gabriel laughed.  “God, you’re cute when you’re flustered.”

Sam could feel the blush creeping up his neck and he shifted on the bench.

Another canoe floated by, Garth at the helm.  Dylan was in the bow and Martin crouched in the middle seat like a cranky gargoyle, glaring suspiciously at Sam and Gabriel as they passed.

“Are we far enough apart, Martin?” Gabriel asked.  “Or should we move to different states?”

Sam held his breath to keep from laughing and Martin sniffed and turned away. Dylan shot them a slightly desperate glance as the canoes drifted apart, and Sam shook, covering his mouth and trying not to let the giggles escape.

“Wonder what Dylan did to piss Brady off,” Gabriel said, lifting a wicked eyebrow in Sam’s direction.

“Either flirted with someone or badmouthed the big Z in Martin’s hearing,” Sam said. “Poor Dylan.”

He began to paddle again and Gabriel swayed, startled.

“Easy there, big guy, where exactly are we going?”

Sam pointed. “See that inlet? I want to explore it.”

Gabriel twisted around.  The trees were thick on the far side of the lake, but there were several places where the foliage opened up and offered glimpses of the water stretching into the forest, up under the trees.

“Huh,” Gabriel said.  “Dark and shady and private. I like the way you think, Samsquatch.”

Sam snorted and kept paddling.  “You could help,” he pointed out, beginning to puff a little.

Gabriel leaned back, resting his arms on the gunwale.  “I’m not functional, Sammy; I’m ornamental. Haven’t you figured that out yet?” The boat scraped over a branch in the water and he sat up hastily, eyes wide.

“Relax,” Sam said, grinning.  “The trees root in the lakebed.  We’re bound to run up against some flotsam and/or jetsam occasionally.  It’s not the Loch Ness monster _or_ a giant crocodile.  Which would be impossible anyway.”

“Have you not _seen_ Lake Placid?” Gabriel demanded.  His knuckles were white again, gripping the bench where he sat.

Sam leaned forward and touched his knee and Gabriel looked up at him.

“You’re safe, Gabe,” Sam said.  “And that was a _terrible_ movie.”

Gabriel relaxed a little, but his shoulders were still tense and he kept darting glances at the murky water that flowed around their canoe.

“You _can_ swim, right?” Sam asked. Of all the things he should have found out _before_ he took Gabriel out on the lake…Sam wanted to kick himself.

“I can swim,” Gabriel said.  “Just…I prefer to do it in places where I can see what’s in the water with me.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Sam said, grinning at him.  His own shoulders were beginning to burn with the effort of paddling, but they were almost to the inlet and he wasn’t about to stop. “You know, in case we _do_ capsize and the boat sinks and monster crocodiles come after us, it’s good to know you can at least doggy-paddle your way to safety.”

“ _Not fucking funny_ ,” Gabriel hissed, glaring at him.

“It was a little bit funny!” Sam protested.  He stuck his paddle in the water and turned the boat so that they floated in under the trees.

Dimness enveloped them, the sun suddenly blotted out overhead.  Gabriel looked up, nerves forgotten as he gazed around in awe. The trees stretched overhead, branches meshing over the waterway and the sunlight filtering through the leaves in a dappled haze.

“Oh,” Gabriel breathed.  “This is…nice.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Sam agreed, smiling.  The tension had evaporated from Gabriel’s small frame and he was relaxed, tilting his head back to look up at the trees they floated under.

Sam wanted, suddenly and desperately, to lick a stripe up that long neck, to see what Gabriel’s skin tasted like on his tongue, and he shifted positions, biting his lip.

Gabriel looked at him, quizzical, and then his eyes drifted lower, to the noticeable bulge in Sam’s shorts, and his eyebrows went up.

“What are you thinking about, Sam?” he asked, his voice dark and low.

Sam shifted again.  “Honestly?” he said. “Pinning you down and attacking your neck with my mouth.”

Gabriel’s eyes widened.  “Shit,” he whispered.

“You asked,” Sam pointed out.

“And I’m very, very glad I did,” Gabriel said.  He glanced around at the gloom.  They were far enough into the trees that they couldn’t even hear the other campers, floating alone in a little cocoon of silence.  “So it looks like we’re safe from prying eyes,” he said, leaning a little over the edge to look at the water. 

“Unless this is the lair of the crocodile from that movie about the Australian croc…” Sam said.

Gabriel sat bolt upright.  “Rogue! _Sam,_ I thought I was the only one that had seen that movie!”

Sam grinned at him.  “Are you kidding? Twenty-five foot crocodile and Australian accents!  How could I pass that up?”

“Tell me you’ve seen Primeval too,” Gabriel said, on the edge of his seat.

Sam rolled his eyes.  “Please. Although it wasn’t as good as Rogue, in my opinion.  And I was sad when Orlando Jones got eaten.”

Gabriel fell back against the gunwale, clutching his heart.  “I’m in love,” he informed the trees.  “I can die happy.”

“You’d better not die yet!” Sam said.  “I’m nowhere near done with you!”  He rowed them deeper into the gloom and Gabriel ducked to avoid a low-hanging branch that nearly clipped his head as they went by.

“Nice reflexes,” Sam commented.

“I’m a part-time ninja,” Gabriel said as Sam shipped his paddle and they began to drift on the peaceful water.  He leaned back again, bracing his elbows on the gunwale, and cocked an eyebrow at Sam.

He should have looked ridiculous, Sam thought, with that life-vest hanging off his slim frame and his splayed legs in those red shorts the camp insisted everyone wear. Instead, all Sam could see was golden eyes gleaming in the dim light, a mouth quirked in invitation, and…Gabriel very deliberately dropped his head back.  Ostensibly it was to look up at the trees, but it exposed the long line of his white throat and…Sam sucked in a deep breath.

Then he was sliding off his bench and closing the distance between them on his knees. Gabriel lifted his head to watch him but said nothing as Sam inched closer, until he was between Gabriel’s thighs. Gabriel’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, though, and Sam realized with a rush of relief that Gabriel was every bit as nervous as he was.

“Have you ever done this before?” he asked.

Even in the gloom, Gabriel’s eye-roll was visible.  “Sat in a boat under the trees, in possibly eel-infested waters? No, Sammy, this is a first for me.”

Sam fixed him with a look.  “You’re going to make jokes about the Princess Bride _now?_ You know what I meant.”

Gabriel reached out one hand and trailed it down Sam’s chest.  Sam shivered.

“I kissed a girl at school once,” Gabriel said.  “I was only twelve though, and the next year I’d figured out I preferred boys and I kissed her brother.  She didn’t like me much after that.”  He glanced up at Sam, his eyes suddenly vulnerable.  “I’ve never…I don’t really know what I’m doing,” he confessed. “I know I talk a big game, but I don’t…”

Sam caught his hand, warmth suffusing him.  “Okay,” he whispered.  “So we’ll figure it out together.”

He leaned forward, Gabriel watching his approach with cautious eyes.   A half-inch separating them, Sam stopped, holding his breath.  He wasn’t sure why and didn’t want to analyze it too closely, but it was important to him that Gabriel participated, that he wasn’t just an onlooker.

Gabriel seemed to be frozen in place, barely breathing, and Sam just waited, his hands braced on the bench on either side of Gabriel’s hips.  Long, aching moments passed and then Gabriel groaned, deep in his chest, and surged upward to catch Sam’s mouth with his.

Sam’s eyes slid shut.  Gabriel kissed as if possessed, lips soft and hands desperate, pulling Sam down to him and licking into his open mouth with little whimpers and breathy moans. Sam gave as good as he got, arms snaking around Gabriel’s waist and jerking him off the bench and into his lap.

Gabriel made a startled, happy noise at that, straddling Sam’s thighs and threading his fingers through Sam’s hair, deepening the kiss.  He shifted positions and brushed Sam’s erection, making Sam jerk and moan.

Gabriel hummed and worked a hand between them and Sam gasped, breaking the kiss, head falling back as Gabriel slipped under the waistband of Sam’s shorts and palmed his length.

“Oh my God, Gabe, what…”

Gabriel’s mouth cut him off, hips grinding in time with the hand that was sliding up and down Sam’s cock, and Sam realized Gabriel was just as hard and probably desperate for relief.  He freed a hand and reached down.  Gabriel choked on a groan, burying his face in Sam’s throat as they rocked against each other, chasing the edge of their orgasms.

_Close…already so close…_ Sam could feel it gathering low in the pit of his belly, spreading tendrils of heat through his body.

Looking back, it was probably karma that they heard voices just then, the slap of oars in water, laughter and catcalls back and forth.

Sam and Gabriel both froze, staring at each other in the dim light that dappled across their faces.

Someone was coming down the inlet.  _Their_ inlet.  They were going to be discovered any second now. 

_What do we do?_ Sam mouthed to Gabriel, who scrambled backward onto his bench and looked around wildly.

“Only one thing _to_ do,” Gabriel whispered. “Stand up.  And…I’m sorry.”

Bewildered, Sam made it to his feet, spreading them to balance in the bottom of the tiny craft as he hurriedly adjusted himself in his shorts.

Gabriel gave him an apologetic look and then shoved him over the side into the water.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam surfaced, spluttering and shoving wet hair out of his eyes, just in time to see Gabriel follow him over the side as the other canoe came around the bend into view.

Kevin and Alfie stared at them, startled.  Then Kevin turned, cupping his mouth, and called back the way they’d come, “We found them, they’re fine!”  He turned back to look at them.  “At least I’m assuming you’re fine.  You’re not drowning, are you?”

Gabriel was clutching Sam and treading water and Sam was trying desperately not to laugh at the distressed noises Gabriel was making. 

“We’re fine,” Sam said to Kevin.  “We were…exploring, and I fell out of the boat.  Gabriel went in after me and then he remembered that there may be giant crocodiles in the lake and he regretted his decision.”

Gabriel’s eyes, inches from Sam’s, narrowed.  His thrashing stopped and one hand, hidden by the murky water, was suddenly cupping Sam’s crotch, making him gasp.  Then he was gone, grabbing the side of the boat and shimmying into it with a slippery grace.  Safely in, he turned and held a hand out to Sam.

Sam turned his face away from Kevin and Alfie and took several steadying breaths. Damn Gabriel and his revenge strategies; that one touch had been enough to bring his flagging erection roaring back to life.  Judging from the wicked grin on Gabriel’s face, he knew it, too.

_Oh, it was_ on.Sam took a deep breath, willing his body to calm down, and took the proffered hand, slithering over the side into the bottom of the boat.

Kevin and Alfie were already rowing back out, Kevin shooting a wink at Sam over his shoulder. 

Sam pointed at Gabriel.  “This isn’t over, Milton.”

Gabriel gave him a delighted grin as he settled on the bench and picked up his paddle. “I’d be very disappointed if it was, _Winchester._ ”

 

Sunday morning dawned cool and clear, and Sam chivvied Gabriel into decent slacks and a nice shirt, Gabriel protesting through his yawns.

“Who’m I dressing up for, Sam?” he complained.

“You really didn’t read the handbook, did you?” Sam said.  He fumbled through the dresser and came up clutching it. “Look.”  He flipped through the pages to the dress code and held it out to Gabriel.

_Campers are to wear shorts not above mid-thigh for athletic events.  Church attire is long pants and button-down shirts, with loafers or other presentable shoes._

Gabriel read silently and scowled.  “Crap. I forgot about church.” He collapsed backward onto the bed, flinging his arms out to the sides.  “Kill me now,” he moaned.

Sam sat down next to him.  “You are such a drama queen,” he said.

Gabriel rolled his eyes.  “Well duh. _Gay,_ remember?”

Sam snorted. “Shut up and get your shoes on. Look, even Alfie’s all ready to go. The fourteen year old is making you look bad, Gabe, you -”

“Okay, _okay!_ ” Gabriel snapped, and rolled over to fish his shoes out from under the bed.  “Stop talking already.”

Kevin and Alfie left the cabin and Sam took advantage of the privacy to push Gabriel back onto the mattress, pinning him down with a hand on his shoulder.

Gabriel went limp under him, eyes wide.

Sam leaned in close.  “I’ll…make it worth your while,” he whispered.

The sound of Gabriel swallowing was quite audible in the quiet room. His mouth moved but nothing came out as Sam leaned closer, their lips a hairs-breadth away.  Sam waited, feeling Gabriel’s warm, rapid breath on his face, and then abruptly sat up.

“We’re going to be late,” he announced, and headed for the door.

There was a whimper from the bunk behind him and Sam smiled.

 

He was delighted to discover that Gabriel was a very good tenor and Sam forgot to sing several times in favor of listening to Gabriel singing How Great Thou Art, one of Sam’s favorite hymns.

His good mood evaporated quickly, though, when Zachariah stood up and began to preach.

The older man surveyed the crowd of boys with the beatific smile on his face that Sam was already beginning to hate.

“Brothers,” he announced, “You are here because you have been allowed to sin. This is a sad state of affairs, but _I_ am here to tell you that all is not lost; you have been given a chance to redeem yourselves, to prove yourselves worthy of the kingdom of Heaven, to repent of your filthy perversions and return to the path of righteousness.  Turn in your Bibles to Leviticus.”

A rustling of pages set up and it took Sam a few seconds to realize that Gabriel wasn’t moving.  Sam snuck a glance at him. Gabriel was staring straight ahead, his face a mask of hatred.

Sam nudged him and Gabriel glanced at him as Zachariah began to read. Sam leaned close under the pretense of sharing his Bible with him and whispered in his ear, “ _Stop staring at him before you set him on fire with your eyes, dude_.”

Gabriel snorted soundlessly but he kept his head down and read along. His knuckles brushed Sam’s under the Bible’s cover and Sam caught his pinky, squeezing once before letting go.

It got worse from there.  Zachariah had found every verse that could conceivably be used as an argument against homosexuality and expounded on each at length, his face sorrowful as he explained just how sinful it was to be gay and what they could expect if they chose to continue with their perverted lifestyles.

Sam was a little impressed, really.  The man had a flair for rhetoric and quite the imagination when it came to describing hellfire and Satan’s imps that awaited the willful sinners.  It was almost amusing, really.

Sam snuck a glance at Gabriel and bit his cheek.  Okay, _not_ amusing. Gabriel’s head was drooping, his entire body tense and his mouth downturned.

Sam waited for Zachariah to announce the next verse and used the soft rustling of pages to mask him touching Gabriel’s hand.

Gabriel glanced up at him and Sam lifted his eyebrows.

_Are you okay?_

Gabriel just looked away, back to studying his lap as if it held all the answers to the universe, and Sam had to stifle a jolt of fury with the sanctimonious gray-haired man now droning on about his next verse.  Zachariah had put that misery in Gabriel’s eyes, was busy telling Gabriel that he couldn’t be a Christian and gay at the same time, that he was filth, unworthy of the bottom of a _real_ Christian’s shoe, and Sam suddenly wanted to leap up and drag Gabriel out of the church and kiss the unhappiness off his mouth.  

He couldn’t, though.  Instead he sat, tense and stricken, through the rest of the sermon, barely taking in one word in ten.

When it was over, an excruciatingly long time later, Gabriel was one of the first up and out of his seat as soon as Zachariah said amen.  Sam was caught flat-footed, fumbling to put his hymnal away and gather up his Bible, and Gabriel had vanished by the time Sam made it out of the chapel.

Sam looked around but there was no sign of chestnut hair among the small clumps of teenage boys gathered around and talking animatedly.  Sam spied Dylan’s group and headed that direction.

Garth’s face lit up when he saw him.  “Sam my man, how ya doin’?  Where’s Gabe?” He peered behind Sam as if Gabriel might somehow materialize and Sam sighed.

“He’s not there, Garth.  He…had to get back to the cabin for something.” Sam winced but figured a small white lie couldn’t hurt, not when weighed against Gabriel’s need for privacy.

Garth shrugged and turned to Dylan.  “Hungry? I hear it’s roast beef today.”

Martin looked up at Sam, his face alight with reverence.  David, a huge acned youth with muscles most weightlifters would be envious of, was lurking at his shoulder like a surly, sentient mountain.

“Wasn’t that a wonderful sermon?” Martin asked.

Sam stared at the smaller boy, unable to answer.  How could he actually think that?

“What are you even doing here?” Sam finally asked.

Martin blinked.  “What do you mean?”

“You’ve obviously drunk Zachariah’s Kool-Aid.  You believe every word he says.  So why are you attending this camp, if you hate gays so much?”

Martin shrank in on himself.  “I want…I want to get better,” he mumbled.  He pushed past Sam and scurried away across the grass, David hot on his heels.

Sam didn’t have time to spare feeling sympathy for the skinny young man. He had to find Gabriel.

“Dyl, did you see Gabriel leave the chapel?”

Dylan nodded and pointed into the trees in the vague direction of the archery range. “He headed that way. Don’t know what he was doing but he looked pretty upset.”

Sam swallowed his worry and nodded his thanks, jogging off.  It was cool and shady in under the pine trees, but he didn’t stop to appreciate it.  

Gabriel wasn’t on the archery range.  Sam stopped and turned in a circle.  Where _was_ he? 

He kept going, crossing the range’s short-mown grass and plunging into the trees on the other side.  The only thing on this trail was the lake at the end of it…Sam was suddenly running, ducking branches and hurdling tree stumps.

He burst out into the open, arms wind-milling to catch himself, and a wild surge of relief swamped him when he spied the small figure sitting at the lake’s edge, knees clasped to his chest as he stared out over the water.

Gabriel didn’t turn to look at him, and Sam approached more slowly, settling next to him in the soft grass that grew almost to the water’s edge.

For a long time, neither spoke.  Sam’s stomach growled, unhappy about missing lunch, but Sam kept his mouth shut.

Gabriel didn’t move, still watching the waves and the small bevy of ducks that floated on them.  When he spoke, it was so quiet Sam had to strain to hear.

“I forgot why we were sent here,” Gabriel said.

Sam blinked. He hadn’t been expecting that.

“I was having fun,” Gabriel continued.  “You make me laugh, and all I can think about is you and I wake up in the morning with a smile on my face thinking about you when _you_ smile and I just…” He fell silent for a moment, his fingers moving restlessly among the rocks on the beach.

“I’m worthless,” Gabriel whispered.  There was deep pain in his voice and it clawed at Sam’s heart. 

“No,” Sam said instantly.  “You are _not_ worthless, Gabe.  You are…you’re _amazing._ You’re so smart, you’re obviously gifted, you’re funny – _God,_ you’re hilarious – and you’re such a loyal, kind friend.  You can’t believe what Zachariah says.  He’s so full of bullshit, his eyes should be brown, not green.”

“I don’t want to believe it but I can’t help it,” Gabriel whispered.  He finally looked up at Sam, his eyes full of misery, sparking golden in the early afternoon sun.

Sam wanted to weep or punch something, preferably Zachariah’s hateful face. He settled for hurling a pebble across the lake, watching it skim across the waves.

Gabriel’s knees were drawn up to his chest and he rested his forearms on them, hiding his face against his arms.

“If I knew for sure no one was watching from the trees, I’d push you flat on your back right now,” Sam said.

Gabriel’s head came up, eyes wide and startled.

Sam met them, his own gaze steady.  He had an idea, but he needed Gabriel to be part of this, to participate.

“What…” Gabriel had to stop to clear his throat. “What would you do then?”

_There it is._ Sam’s relief spread through him and he shifted a little to get comfortable.  “Then I think…” He tilted his head and pretended to consider. “I think then I’d spend some time exploring you.”

“Exploring me how?” Gabriel asked.  He sounded a little short of breath. 

Sam shrugged, picking up a pebble and examining it.  Gabriel was watching him closely. 

“Well, I’d hold both your wrists in one hand and pin them down above your head,” Sam said thoughtfully.  “Because I wouldn’t want to be distracted, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Gabriel agreed.  His voice sounded a little choked and Sam hid a smile, tossing the pebble into the waves that lapped the shore.

“First,” Sam continued, picking up another small rock and rolling it between his fingers, “I’d start with seeing how sensitive your ears are.”

Gabriel shot him a startled look.  “My… _ears?_ ”

“Earlobes can be very erogenous zones,” Sam said as if confiding a great secret.

“I didn’t…I didn’t know that,” Gabriel admitted.  He squirmed a little in place, arms still resting on his knees, and Sam suppressed another smile. 

“After that,” Sam said, “I’d spend some time on your jaw.”

“Why my jaw?” Gabriel asked, fascinated.  The misery was dissipating from his body’s tense lines and his eyes were dark, pupils blown wide.

“You have a gorgeous jawline,” Sam said.  “I spend more time than I probably should looking at it.  I want to see what it feels like under my tongue.”

Gabriel shuddered, hands gripping his forearms tightening spasmodically.

“From there, I’d work my way down your neck.  You have a beautiful throat, Gabe, and I want to see how many marks I can put on it. I want to make you come with just my mouth on your throat, sucking bruises into the skin while you beg for me to touch you, shaking all over and making those beautiful noises -” A choked sound from Gabriel cut him off. 

“ _Stop._ ”

The shorter boy’s head was down, face hidden and fingers white from where he’d been gripping his own arms.

_He’d gone too far_ , Sam realized with a rush of horror. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurted.  “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”  He made to get up and Gabriel reached out a hand to stop him.  Sam froze and subsided back to his sitting position.

Gabriel finally lifted his head and Sam took a shaky breath of relief. Gabriel’s pupils were blown, only a thin ring of brown remaining around the black.  His lips were bitten and red, shiny with saliva, and Sam had never wanted anything as much as he wanted to kiss the young man currently smiling at him.

“‘Uncomfortable’ isn’t the word I’d use,” Gabriel managed after a few throat clearings. “‘Sam aroused me to the point of me coming in my pants like a horny twelve year old’ would be a more accurate description.”

Sam grinned at him, lightheaded and dizzy with want.  “Think that would fit on a t-shirt?” he asked. “Because I’d wear that as a badge of honor.”

He scrambled to his feet and held out a hand.  “Come on.  Let’s go change our clothes. I was thinking we should go for a trail-ride this afternoon, just the two of us.  What do you say?”

Gabriel accepted the hand up, turning towards the water and discreetly rearranging himself before meeting Sam’s eyes and arching an eyebrow.

“Sure you can walk?” Sam teased as they picked their way over the rocks toward the trees.

“Shut up,” Gabriel said companionably.  “It’s your fault I’m _in_ this state, and if you think I’m not going to return the favor the _second_ I’m able to, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“I look forward to it,” Sam said, grinning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on the Sabriel Big Bang right now, so updates on this may have to go to once a week until that's out of my system. On the plus side, I'm already at 15K for that, and hope to have it closer to done soon, so I can focus on Beignets and Camp more thoroughly again.
> 
> (And you guys are really going to like what I'm writing for the Big Bang, I think. It's going _really_ well so far! And hey, bonus, it's got Destiel in it too! ;o)


	6. Chapter 6

They changed clothes and stopped at the Mess, where a buffet had been laid out, and grabbed food they could eat with their hands. 

Gabriel’s gut was still churning, his heart still heavy in his chest, but Sam had worked some effective magic on him, and while he still wanted to punch Zachariah in the face, his appetite had come roaring back.

Thankfully, none of their circle of friends was in the dining room, and he and Sam were able to escape with their food, no one the wiser.

They raced each other to the stables, Gabriel surprising Sam with being able to almost keep up with his long legs.  Stumbling to a stop and wheezing for air, Gabriel braced his hands on his knees and moaned.

“Kill me now,” he panted. 

Sam made a noise that sounded like a laugh from where he was leaning against the wall. “God, you run fast for such a short guy.”

“What I lack in stature, I make up in speed, Sammy,” Gabriel said, straightening. “It’s the short wheelbase. Makes for impressive bursts of speed over short distances.”

Sam snorted a laugh as Ellen appeared in the huge double doorway of the stable and lifted an eyebrow.

“And what do you think you two are doing?” she said.

“Thought we’d take Dozer and Dylan out,” Gabriel said.  “It’s a free afternoon.”

“They’ll be thrilled,” Ellen said, gesturing them into the cool darkness of the stable.  “They haven’t had any exercise today.”

Sam showed Gabriel how to tack up Dylan, a small cream-colored horse with startlingly blue eyes, and then insisted on finding a helmet that fit him.

“Oh come on,” Gabriel protested.  “Is that really necessary?”

Ellen pointed wordlessly at a sign hanging on the wall.

NOT LIABLE FOR HEAD INJURIES

“Fine,” Gabriel said, sighing, and took the helmet.

Sam stepped closer, lowering his voice so Ellen wouldn’t hear. “I like your head in the shape it’s in,” he said.  “And I’ll make it worth your while.”

Gabriel grinned up at him and buckled the helmet in place.  “Happy?” he asked.

“Couldn’t be happier,” Sam said, and they led the horses out into the small arena. “I want you to get up on Dylan and I’m going to give you a quick lesson in stop, start, and steer. Once I’m satisfied you’ve got the concept down, we’ll head out.”

“You’ve got this,” Ellen said.  “I’m going back inside where it’s cool.  Gabriel, just keep Dylan behind Dozer on the trail and you won’t get into much trouble. He’s a born follower.”

“Too bad the same can’t be said for you,” Sam quipped.

Gabriel took a hopping step and swung into the saddle, settling into the seat.

Sam, holding Dylan's head, waited for him to find both stirrups before letting go of the bridle.

“Now,” Sam began, “When you want him to move forward, you’re going to squeeze with your lower leg or touch him _gently_ with your heel until he takes the first step.  Don’t you dare kick him.”

He took Gabriel through the basics of steering and handling and finally deemed him competent enough to be turned loose on the trails.  “Just let me take the lead,” he said as he mounted Dozer and turned him in a circle.

“Watch you from behind?” Gabriel said, grinning.  “However will I survive?”

Sam laughed and they headed out of the arena and into the trees.

Sam rode with a grace and economy of motion that made Gabriel’s mouth dry to watch him, keeping his balance perfectly centered in the saddle and moving with Dozer’s every motion.

They couldn’t talk much without raising their voices, but that was alright with Gabriel. He was content to stay silent and watch Sam as they wound their way through the trees.

“Doing okay?” Sam asked about twenty minutes into the ride.

“Sh,” Gabriel said.  “I’m busy objectifying you.”

Sam’s laugh rang out and Gabriel decided he was rapidly getting addicted to the sound of it.

They rode for an hour before they came to a clearing.  The trail had widened in the past few minutes and they were riding side by side now, knees brushing occasionally.  Gabriel had to crane his neck to see Sam and he snorted.

“What’s funny?” Sam asked as he brought Dozer to a halt in the clearing.

“Nothing,” Gabriel said.  “Just thinking that now I can tell you to get off your high horse.”

Sam groaned and several things happened at once.

A herd of deer burst from cover, thundering across the clearing in front of them. Dylan backed up rapidly and Gabriel fell forward, grabbing the horse’s mane but somehow hanging on. And Dozer spooked and spun hard, flinging Sam from the saddle and into a tree with a sickening crack.

Dozer bolted, disappearing back down the path, and Dylan whinnied and tried to follow. Gabriel fought him, sitting deep in the saddle and hauling on the reins like Sam had showed him, but the little horse was determined not to be left behind, forging ahead and paying no attention at all to his rider.

In desperation, Gabriel hurled himself out of the saddle and Dylan was out of sight down the trail by the time Gabriel hit the grass and rolled.

He was on his feet almost instantly, stumbling toward where he’d last seen Sam as he yanked his helmet off.

_Sam.  Don’t be dead, oh please God don’t be dead._

Gabriel found him at the base of a large tree, body limp.  Sam’s cheek was bleeding, painting the lower half of his face red, and he was unconscious, but he was breathing.  Gabriel nearly choked on his relief as he began to examine the rest of him, praying wordlessly.

Halfway through Gabriel’s frantic inspection, Sam stirred and groaned, trying to sit up. Gabriel planted a hand on his chest and held him down without effort.

“Don’t _move,_ ” he said. “I’m trying to see if anything’s broken.”

“What…happened?” Sam slurred.

“Deer. Dozer threw you. Can you wiggle your fingers?”

Sam obeyed, moving the fingers of his right hand, but wincing at moving his left. Gabriel felt his wrist with careful fingers and Sam tried to muffle his moan.

“I can’t tell but I think it’s at least fractured,” Gabriel said, looking up.

Sam nodded, his mouth set in a tight line.

Gabriel kept going, down Sam’s legs, and sucked in a startled breath. Sam’s right ankle was very clearly broken, the bone standing out in sharp relief against the skin.

“How bad is it?” Sam whispered.

Gabriel cleared his throat.  “I’ve, uh…totally seen worse,” he said.

“Don’t bullshit me,” Sam growled, sitting up despite Gabriel’s efforts to stop him. “Oh God,” he said when he saw his foot. His face was white, pinched with pain, and he was cradling his wrist, trying to keep from jarring it.

Gabriel yanked his shirt off, suddenly grateful that he’d chosen a long-sleeved chambray blend that would make a perfect sling.  He tied the sleeves behind Sam’s neck and Sam sighed in relief as the sling took the weight of the fractured bone.

“Come on,” Gabriel said, “Let’s get you comfortable.”  He helped Sam scoot around until his back was to the tree, sitting between two huge tree roots.

“Do you have your phone?” Gabriel asked.  “I left mine in the cabin when we went to church.”

Sam nodded. “Pocket.”

Gabriel fished it out, wincing when Sam caught his breath. 

“Sorry,” Gabriel said.  He held up the phone and groaned.  A spider’s web of cracks stretched across the surface, and it wouldn’t even power on. “ _Shit._ ”

Sam rested his head against the tree trunk.  “That’s just great,” he murmured.  “Now what?  Where are the horses?”

“Dozer took off,” Gabriel said.  “And apparently Dylan decided he wasn’t getting left and he lit a shuck after him. I bailed when I couldn’t stop him.”

“You could’ve been really hurt,” Sam said.  “I’m so sorry.”

“Why?” Gabriel asked, startled.  “I _wanted_ to do this, Sam.  I may never get on another horse, but I wanted to be out here with you and I don’t regret doing it.  I just wish you weren’t hurt.”

Sam closed his eyes.

“Sam? Sam, don’t go to sleep on me, okay? You probably have a concussion. You cracked your helmet clean in two.”

“Thank God I was wearing it,” Sam mumbled, and opened one eye a slit. “Now do you see why they’re important?”

Gabriel snorted a laugh, on his knees in the soft dirt next to him. “Are you really making jokes right now? Besides, I seem to recall you telling me you’d make it worth my while to wear one, and I gotta say, I don’t see you making good on that promise _._ ”

“I will,” Sam said.  “Eventually. Right now, you have to go for help.”

“Fuck that,” Gabriel said flatly, startling Sam into opening his eyes.

“I mean it,” Sam said.  “I’m obviously not walking out of here.  You have to go for help, Gabe.”

“I’m not leaving you, Sam,” Gabriel said.  There was no room for discussion in his tone.  “We’re at least an hour on horseback from the camp.  That’s what, two hours on foot?  It’s already late afternoon.  I am _not_ leaving you in the middle of nowhere, alone and completely defenseless, to be a handy snack for a mountain lion.  Besides, what if you pass out?  I’m staying, to keep you awake and protect you from anything that wants to eat you.”

Sam took a deep breath and sighed, groping for Gabriel’s hand and clutching it tightly. “I should argue,” he said faintly, “But I’m really glad you’re staying.”

Gabriel squeezed his hand and Sam lifted his right arm.  “Would you…?”

Gabriel curled up next to him, careful not to jar Sam’s leg, and Sam draped his arm over Gabriel’s torso, pulling him in tight against him.

Silence fell. Gabriel kept an eye on Sam’s face, making sure he wasn’t falling asleep, trying to do it without appearing obvious.

“When I dreamed about having you half-naked in the woods,” Sam said abruptly, “This really isn’t what I had in mind.”

Gabriel laughed in spite of himself.  “You’ll have to tell me that fantasy some time,” he said.  It was cool in the woods, and he tucked himself in a little closer to Sam’s side.

“I could take a great big bite out of you,” he murmured almost under his breath, and Sam’s arm tightened.

“What?”

“It’s a song,” Gabriel said, embarrassed.  “You said you wanted to pin me down and it’s been stuck in my head ever since.”

“Sing it for me?” Sam asked.  He sounded like he was desperately trying to keep his mind off the pain, so Gabriel took a deep breath and obliged.

“I need to get my sound, so I'm gonna lay you down,

“I'm gonna spin you around, and play you like a record.”

Sam smiled, his eyes closed.  “I like that. Got any more?”

Gabriel rested his cheek against Sam’s chest, listening to his heart beating rapidly under his ear. 

“I could take a great big bite out of you,

“When I get my cake I like to eat I like to eat it too,

“And can I help myself if I find you simply delicious?”

Sam snorted a laugh and Gabriel smiled.

It wasn’t long before he fell asleep, feeling safe under Sam’s arm. When he woke up, night was closing in. Gabriel could hear birds chirping sleepily and crickets beginning to sing, and it was getting cooler. He shivered and sat up to stretch.

Sam smiled at him, face pale in the twilight.  “Good nap?”

“I shouldn’t have fallen asleep at all, dammit,” Gabriel said, feeling Sam’s forehead. “How are you feeling? Did _you_ sleep?”

“I’ve had better days,” Sam admitted.  “And no, I didn’t sleep.  Figured it was best to have one of us stay awake just in case.”

Gabriel relaxed back against him.  “You think they’ve figured out that we’re missing yet?”

“God, I hope so,” Sam said.

Silence fell.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said after another few minutes.

“Didn’t we already have this conversation?” Gabriel said.  He sat up and peered into Sam’s eyes.  “Your pupils are the same size.  I don’t have a flashlight, dammit.  Does your head hurt?”

“Yes, it hurts,” Sam growled, “But I’m not concussed, dammit.  Or if I am, it’s not impairing my cognitive abilities. Would I even be able to _say_ ‘cognitive abilities’ if I were concussed?”

“Okay, you have a point,” Gabriel conceded.  He curled up again, soaking up Sam’s body heat.  “So why are you sorry?”

“I’m sorry you’re here in the first place,” Sam said, sighing.  “Not here with me; here at the camp.  I’m sorry this place _exists._ I’m sorry Zachariah is so misguided and wrong and made you feel like shit when you’re clearly the most amazing person I’ve ever met and all I’ve wanted to do since I first saw you is kiss you stupid, hold you and touch you and show you how incredible you really are.”

Gabriel held very still.

“I’m sorry that you think this is how real Christians act.  They don’t, Gabe.  _We_ don’t. We don’t believe God hates you, we don’t believe being gay is a choice.”

Sam reached up and cupped the side of Gabriel’s face with his good hand and Gabriel leaned into his warmth almost unconsciously.

“You are beautiful,” Sam whispered.  “Gabe…will you kiss me?”

Gabriel leaned forward, hypnotized by Sam’s green eyes.  Their lips met and Sam sighed into Gabriel’s open mouth.

The kiss was soft and sweet, gentle and chaste, nothing like the urgent hunger of the kisses in the boat.  Gabriel fell into the feel of Sam’s lips, the dip and slide of his tongue, the hand that skimmed over Gabriel’s torso.

When they pulled apart, they were both breathing hard.

“Sam, I have to ask you something,” Gabriel murmured.

Sam looked almost drunk, his pupils blown and lips reddened.  He blinked, dazed.  “Hm?”

“You said ‘we’,” Gabriel said.  “Who’s we?”

“Who…oh…” Sam took a deep breath.  “My, um…parents, me, my church.  Real Christians who believe God loves and created everyone the way they are, and that sexual orientation is not a choice or a sin.”

Gabriel sat back on his heels.  “Sam…I’m confused.”

“About what?”

“If that’s what your parents believe, what are you doing here, in this camp?” Gabriel asked.

Sam swallowed, awareness rushing back in.  “I…”

Gabriel heard the engine first, jerking away with a gasp and scrambling to his feet and into the clearing.

There were four-wheelers coming down the trail, several of them judging from the sounds of the motors.  Gabriel gave a sob of relief as they came into view, waving wildly at them.

It was Brady and Noah.  They braked and Noah swung off and strode over to Gabriel. 

“Are you hurt?  Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?  What happened? Where’d you get these scrapes and cuts?”

Gabriel jerked away and led him to the tree.  “I’m fine,” he said.  “Sam needs help. His ankle’s broken and I think his wrist might be too.”

Sam smiled up at Noah in genuine relief.  “Never been so happy to see anyone,” he admitted as Noah began to examine him.

Brady was holding Gabriel’s arm, looking him over for injuries while Gabriel squirmed, trying to get back to Sam.

“I’m fine, I said!” he insisted.  “Stop worrying about me and take care of Sam!”

“Hold _still_ ,” Brady snapped. “Noah knows what he’s doing. I have to make sure you’re okay, would you stop fighting me already?”

Gabriel stilled, suffering Brady’s attentions with a sigh.

“So what happened?” Brady finally asked, when he’d satisfied himself that Gabriel was telling the truth about his lack of injuries.

“There was a herd of deer,” Gabriel said.  “Spooked Dozer, Sam came off.  He needs to go to the hospital.  His ankle’s broken and he may have a concussion.”

Noah stood up and nodded at Brady.  “He’s right. Possibly a greenstick fracture of his left arm, too.”  He glanced at Gabriel. “You did the right thing by putting the sling on him.”  He turned to Brady and then did a double-take back to Gabriel’s chest and stomach. “Did you get those bruises coming off the horse?”

Brady shook his head.  “They’re too old,” he said. “Gabriel, where did you get those bruises?”

Gabriel gaped at both men.  “Are you serious right now?” he demanded.  “Why are we focusing on week-old bruises that aren’t doing me any harm whatsoever when Sam’s sitting there with a _broken ankle?_ Why aren’t we getting him to the hospital right frickin’ now?”

“Language,” Noah admonished, but there was no heat behind it.  “Brady, he’s right.  Sam takes priority right now.”

The two men helped Sam to his feet, bracing him between them.  Sam wobbled on one leg, his right foot barely brushing the ground, face taut as he battled the pain.

“You’re too big to carry easily,” Brady said, “So just hold on tight and we’ll get you on the four-wheeler, okay?”

Sam nodded, mouth tight, and laboriously hopped toward the nearest vehicle. He settled onto it with a relieved sigh and Brady slid onto the seat in front of him.

“I’ll do my best not to jostle you,” he said.  “Just hang on.”

Gabriel scrambled onto the other four-wheeler behind Noah, wrapping his arms around the older man’s waist.  He watched as Brady accelerated slowly, Sam swaying behind him.

The ride back to the camp was tortuously slow to keep from jarring Sam’s ankle more, but there were still tears on Sam’s face when they finally pulled up in front of the lodge, where the ambulance was waiting amid a crowd of anxious boys.

Gabriel scrambled off the back of the four-wheeler and pulled Sam’s arm over his shoulder, helping him hobble toward the ambulance.  He bit his lip, wincing at every tiny pained noise Sam was making.

The EMTs met them halfway and eased Sam onto the stretcher.  One, a slim blonde girl, immediately began work on setting up an IV while the other, a stocky man in his fifties, starting examining Sam’s ankle.

“Easy, son,” he said.  “Jo’s getting you something for the pain right now.”

“Gabe,” Sam whispered.  “Gabe?”

“I’m here, Sam,” Gabriel said.  He slithered around the stretcher to the unoccupied side and gripped Sam’s hand hard.

“I’m scared,” Sam said, eyes wide and fearful.  “Please don’t leave me.”

Zachariah pushed through the crowd then.  “We’ve called your parents, Sam.  They’re on their way.”

Kevin came panting up, holding one of Gabriel’s t-shirts.  “Brady,” he said by way of explanation as he handed it over.

Gabriel slipped it over his head gratefully and went back to holding Sam’s hand.

Zachariah reached out and tried to separate them and Sam jerked away, making the blonde EMT exclaim in annoyance.

“Hold still!”

“Sam, you have to let go,” Zachariah said soothingly.  “They’re going to take you to the hospital and Gabriel needs to stay here.”

“ _No!_ ” Sam was gripping Gabriel’s hand so tightly it was beginning to hurt, but Gabriel would die before admitting that fact.

“Actually,” Jo said, “We need to examine this young man too.  It’ll be easier to do that at the hospital. So he needs to come with us.”

Zachariah glowered but said nothing, stepping back.  Brady leaned in and whispered something in his ear.  Zachariah’s gaze snapped to Gabriel’s chest, covered now by his t-shirt, and his eyes narrowed.

“Fine,” he said, “Gabriel may go to the hospital too, but first, may I have a word with you?  Sam, I promise he’ll be right back.”

Sam let go grudgingly and Gabriel was towed away by Zachariah’s hand on his arm.

Safely out of earshot of the group, Zachariah let go of Gabriel’s arm and smiled at him. “Gabriel, can you tell me about the bruises on your body, please?”

Gabriel stared up at him.  “I fell off Dylan,” he finally said.

“Yes, I know,” Zachariah said, “But the bruises that Brady saw were at least a week old and weren’t caused by your fall.  So what happened?  Did something happen? Did someone here hurt you?”

Understanding dawned.  “You’re afraid one of the campers beat me up and I’m going to sue, aren’t you?” Gabriel said. “You’re in luck; no one’s touched me. Excuse me.”  He turned to leave and Zachariah caught his arm again.

“Gabriel, please.  I’m glad that no one here hurt you, and I know that you don’t like me, but I am genuinely concerned about you.  Please tell me how you came to be bruised so badly.”

Gabriel pulled his arm away.  “Shove it up your ass, _Zach._ ”  He was gone before Zachariah could stop him.

Sam was in the ambulance and reached for him, relief flooding his face. Gabriel took his hand again and settled on the bench next to him.

“The pain medicine is kicking in,” Jo said.  “So he’s pretty out of it.”  She closed the doors of the ambulance and it began to move.

“Pretty,” Sam said dreamily.  “Gabe’s…pretty. So pretty.”

Gabriel cast a glance at Jo, whose lips were twitching.  He squeezed Sam’s hand.  “Are you still scared, Sam?  You know it’s gonna be okay, right?”

Sam huffed a laugh.  “Wasn’t…scared. Didn’t wanna leave you behind. Worked, didn’t it?”

Gabriel couldn’t help the smile.  “Yeah, I guess it did, at that.”

“We’ll be at the hospital in about fifteen minutes,” Jo said.  “Both your parents are meeting us there, as I understand it.”

“Good,” Sam mumbled.  “Want…Gabe…meet my parents.  ‘N Dean. Gotta meet Dean, Gabe. You’ll hate him.” He laughed at his own joke, eyes drooping shut.

“Is he okay?” Gabriel asked Jo anxiously.

“He’s fine,” she assured him.  “Just bombed out of his head on opiates.”

“Gabe,” Sam murmured.

Gabriel leaned forward.  “I’m here, Sam.”

“Sing to me?” Sam said.

Gabriel looked at Jo, who shrugged.  “Don’t mind me,” she said.  “Bobby may complain, but that’s just because he’s tone-deaf.”

So Gabriel spent the rest of the ambulance ride singing any song he could think of, clutching Sam’s hand in both of his and watching his face, lax with sleep, turned toward him on the pillow.  He thought maybe he was falling in love, and it felt like free-fall, exhilarating and terrifying and intoxicating and all he wanted was more, more Sam, more _everything._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the confusion on the title - the previous one was silly and I felt it didn't quite set the tone I was looking for. This comes from a song that's been stuck in my head for the past week and I felt it fit.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: this chapter contains severe violence at the end. If blood and injuries bother you, please be warned. AlsoI'msorrypleasedon'tkillme. (Blame the anonymous fan who requested "near death and lots of angst". Never let it be said that I don't deliver.)

Sam opened his eyes and immediately wished he hadn’t.  His head hurt and his stomach was heaving, his ankle was throbbing dully and even his arm was in on the act, sending up protesting twinges when he moved cautiously, trying to find a more comfortable position.

“Gabe?” he murmured.

“No, honey,” someone said.

He blinked, trying to focus, and a face swam into view in front of him.

“Mom?”

His mother smiled a little tremulously.  Her blue eyes were reddened and her blonde hair, usually neat and swept into perfect style, was tumbling around her face.

“Hey, baby,” she said.  “How are you feeling?”

“Shitty,” Sam said, and winced.  But his mother just laughed and patted his hand.

“You get a pass this time.”

Sam’s father leaned over into Sam’s field of vision.  “Hey, son.  You gave us a hell of a scare.”

“Hey Dad,” Sam said weakly.  “Where’s Dean?”

“Right here,” his brother said, standing up and moving to the end of the bed. “If you wanted more attention you could’ve just said so, you know.  You always have to take things to extremes, don’t you?”

Sam smiled, closing his eyes.  “Gabe,” he whispered.  “I need to see Gabe.”

There was an awkward silence.

“Who’s Gabe, honey?” his mother asked.

“I think it’s the boy that came in with him, Mary,” Sam’s father said. “Sam, I’ll go check on him right now, okay?  I think he’s being examined for injuries.”

“Thanks Dad,” Sam murmured, beginning to drift again. 

When he woke up next, Gabriel was sitting beside him.

“Hey you,” Gabriel said, lips curving up.  “How ya doing?”

Sam sighed in relief, reaching out and gripping Gabriel’s hand tightly. “Better,” he said. His parents, standing behind Gabriel’s chair, traded a glance but said nothing and Sam was too exhausted to bother explaining.

“Are you sure _you’re_ okay?” he asked Gabriel instead.

“Fine, I swear,” Gabriel said.  “I had to talk to a social worker.”  He shivered. “She was _terrifying._ But I survived, and here I am.”

“Why did you have to talk to a social worker?” Dean asked from the other side of the bed.

Gabriel jerked, reminded that they weren’t alone, and Sam glared at his brother. “That’s none of your business,” he snapped.

Sam’s father cleared his throat.  “Sammy, you gonna introduce us to your friend?”

“Sorry,” Sam said, feeling slow and stupid.  Gabriel squeezed his hand.  “Gabe, these are my parents, John and Mary Winchester.  That’s my douchebag big brother, Dean.  Guys, this is Gabriel Milton.”

John held out his hand for Gabriel to take.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, son.”

Dean gave a little wave from across the bed but didn’t move, and Mary rolled her eyes at her son’s rudeness and hugged Gabriel, who was looking a little poleaxed from all the attention.

“Can you tell us what happened?” she asked him.

Gabriel cast a glance at Sam, who yawned and nodded.  He was getting sleepy again, the drugs and exhaustion from fighting the pain dragging him back under.  He fell asleep to Gabriel’s soft voice explaining how they’d decided to go for a ride after church.

 

The next time Sam woke up, Dean was the only one in the room with him, curled up in a cramped ball on the tiny couch next to the bed.  Sam stretched, wincing, and the movement woke Dean, who sat up and groaned.

“I think I have a permanent crick in my neck,” he griped, rolling his head on his shoulders.

“My heart bleeds,” Sam said dryly.  He groped for the button that raised the bed and lifted it so he could look at his brother easily. “Where is everyone?”

“It’s evening,” Dean said.  “They went to eat. I said I’d stay with you; they’re gonna bring us something back.”

“Gabe went with our parents?  Voluntarily? And where are his parents, anyway?”

Dean shrugged.  “Hell if I know. And yeah, he looked a little freaked out but he went with ‘em willingly.”  He stood up and crossed to the bed, sitting on the mattress next to his brother’s hip. “So.”

Sam looked up at him warily.  “So?”

“What’d you find?” Dean asked.

“I found that trees are really hard and deer spook horses,” Sam said.

Dean rolled his eyes.  “God, you’re obtuse.”

“Dude, if I had any news, I’d tell you,” Sam snapped.  “It's all in my notes, in any case.”  His head was hurting again and his ankle had set up an insistent throbbing. He closed his eyes, missing Gabriel with a sudden sharp desperation.

Dean touched his hand.  “I’ll get the nurse.” He disappeared and Sam took deep breaths through the pain, struggling to focus.  He shifted positions and winced.  His ankle protested and Sam sighed.  He wanted Gabriel, _needed_ him to be sitting beside the bed, holding Sam’s hand and singing ridiculous songs to him.

But Gabriel was out to dinner with Sam’s parents, probably being subjected to the third degree. Sam grimaced at the thought. Gabriel was tough, but Sam’s mother was _scary._   And she was smart, too – she’d known instantly that Gabriel and Sam were more than friends.  Even through the haze of pain and drugs, Sam had seen the look she’d given his father.

The nurse knocked on the door and came inside, smiling at Sam, Dean right behind her. “Ready for another hit?” she asked. Sam gratefully accepted the pills she handed him and swallowed them with a sigh of relief as Dean sat down on the couch again and pulled out his phone.

“Did you at least keep notes?” Dean asked, eyes on the screen.

Sam nodded and the nurse patted his hand and left the room.  “Yeah, I did.  Oh _shit._ ”  He sat bolt upright and Dean looked up, startled.

“What?”

“I hid them in a shoe,” Sam said.  “I didn’t…what if someone finds them?”

Dean shrugged.  “So what if they do? You remember what they said, right?”

“Well yeah, but…what’ll happen when I go back?”

Dean gave him a pitying look.  “Dude. You’re not _going_ back.  You’ve got a broken ankle.  You’re going to be on crutches for weeks, and you’ll probably have to be in a wheelchair until your arm’s healed enough to even think about using the crutches in the first place.  If they find the notes, they find them.  Big deal.”

Sam leaned back against the pillows with a sigh.  “I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I am,” Dean said smugly.  “Now shut up so I can beat my score on this game.”

Sam rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut as the pain in his ankle began to slowly abate, a blessed fuzziness setting up shop in his brain.  He sank under with a distinctly grateful sense of relief.

 

**(Gabriel)**

John and Mary Winchester were a little terrifying, Gabriel decided, but ridiculously nice.  Mary in particular had a startlingly acute manner and seemed able to see into Gabriel’s mind.  He found himself answering her honestly when she asked about the camp and what had happened, and if anyone had hurt him while he was there.

“No ma’am,” he said, leaving out the bruises his father had given him. “It’s…not been much fun at times, but no one’s laid a finger on me.”

Mary narrowed her eyes and looked hard at him, but seemed satisfied and dropped the inquisition.  Gabriel finished his meal with an inner sigh of relief.

When everyone was done eating, John leaned back in his chair.  “Gabriel, have you heard from your parents?”

“The, um…nurse that examined me called them,” Gabriel said.

“Are they coming to the hospital?”

Gabriel shook his head.  “Dad said since I wasn’t hurt, there was no reason to.  It’s a long distance to drive and he’s pretty busy.”

Mary’s lips tightened but she stayed silent.

John glanced at her and took her hand.  “Gabe, I need to talk to Mary a minute.  Would you excuse us?  We’ll be right back.”

Baffled, Gabriel nodded and watched them leave.  They didn’t go far; just out of earshot.  John leaned in and spoke in Mary’s ear.  Mary glanced at Gabriel and asked a question.  John answered and Mary looked considering, but then she nodded, smiling.  John kissed her quickly and they came back to the table.

“Gabriel, we have a proposition for you,” John said as they took their seats again.

Gabriel waited, wary.

“We have to go to the camp to talk to Zachariah and sign Sam out, not to mention pick up his things,” John continued.

Gabriel nodded.  Another week at that camp without Sam was going to _suck._

Mary leaned forward.  “Would you…Gabe, would you like to come spend at least a week at our place?  You can stay the rest of the summer if you want, if your parents allow it.”

Gabriel’s mouth fell open.  “You don’t even _know_ me!”

Mary smiled at him, blue eyes warm.  “We know enough.  You stayed with Sam when you could have left him, you kept him calm and as comfortable as possible. You obviously care deeply for him. We have an extra bedroom and more than enough space to keep you.  Even accounting for what _three_ teenage boys eat, we can easily handle having you, and Sam cares as much for you as you do for him. Did you know that your name was the first thing he said when he woke up?”

Gabriel shook his head, his mind spinning.  “My parents…” He trailed off.

Mary’s eyes narrowed.  “They couldn’t even be bothered to come to the hospital less than an hour away when you were injured.  I think I can take ‘em.”

John took her hand and grinned at Gabriel.  “Mary can be terrifying when she wants to be,” he told him.  “Relax and let her handle your parents.”

“Okay,” Gabriel whispered.  He was overwhelmed, struggling to find words to express his gratitude, and Mary saw it. She reached out and squeezed his hand.

“Would you be willing to go with us back to the camp?” she asked. “John and I have to talk to Zachariah, and maybe you could pack Sam’s and your things while we do that.”

“Sure,” Gabriel said immediately. 

Mary glanced at John.  “No point in putting it off. Let’s just go right now, okay? Dean’s with Sam and I just got a text from him; Sam’s asleep and probably will be for a while.”

John nodded and rose.  “Might as well get it over with.”

The drive out to the camp was quiet but comfortable, and Gabriel sat in the backseat, marveling at Sam’s parents.  No wonder he was so stable.  Clearly, these people loved unconditionally and with their whole hearts.  Gabriel spared a moment to be envious of Sam as they pulled up in the circle drive in front of the lodge.

“Gabe, honey, just meet us with your bags out here when you’re done, okay?” Mary said as they got out.

Gabriel nodded and took off at a fast jog to his cabin.  It was deserted, thankfully, and he began packing as quickly as he could, shoving things into suitcases with little regard to system or order.

He was done with his stuff in record time and was halfway through Sam’s when the cabin door slammed open.  Gabriel jumped, nearly falling over backwards from where he’d been crouching, to see Martin and Dave standing in the doorway.

“Jesus, Martin, you scared the crap out of me!” Gabriel said, turning back to his task.

“Looking for this?” Martin said.  There was something low and dangerous in his tone.

Gabriel slowly stood up.  Martin was holding a small notebook, about four inches square.  He waited until he was sure he had Gabriel’s attention and began thumbing through it, reading aloud.

“Day One: Campers are subjected to numerous classes on the Old Testament teachings against homosexuality.  If anyone dares object or point out contradictions, they are swiftly punished with manual labor and segregation.

“Day Three: Camper M is struggling with his sexual identity and lashes out in frustration and vitriol at anyone who is near.  Far from being punished, he is praised by the staff as being particularly virtuous in putting his ‘wicked thoughts’ behind him.”

Martin flipped a few more pages.  Gabriel wasn’t breathing.  Dave hulked silently behind Martin, glaring at Gabriel.

“Day Seven: Went out on the lake today.  Have developed a horrible crush on my cabin-mate.  This is not why I came here.  Have tried keeping my distance but only seems to make it worse.”

_This was Sam’s notebook,_ Gabriel realized in horror.  And Martin thought it was _his._

“Martin,” he said carefully.  “That’s not mine.”

“I found it in your shoe, Milton,” the slim boy snapped.  “ _Your shoe._ Who else would it belong to?”

Well, he wasn’t throwing Sam to the wolves.  Gabriel shrugged.  “No idea,” he said airily.  “All I can tell you is, it ain’t mine.  Come on, have you _ever_ heard me use a word like ‘vitriol’?”

Martin glared at him and turned the page, clearing his throat.  “Day Eight: this place is an abomination. It is teaching boys that sexuality is a choice and that they’ve chosen wrong, that they’re filthy and tainted because of who they’re attracted to.  I have to do everything I can to get it shut down or I’ll never be able to live with myself.  Zachariah is misguided, small-minded, and petty, and he is doing terrible damage. I must collect more evidence.”

_Oh, Sam._ Gabriel felt sick to his stomach.  _That_ was why he’d been here, what he’d hinted at.

Martin shoved the notebook into his pocket and stepped to the side so that Dave could enter the cabin.

The enormous young man seemed to fill the room and Gabriel suddenly felt every inch that he was lacking in height.  He took a quick step back and his calves bumped against the bunk bed.

“We’re going to have a talk,” Martin said.  “And after, I’m going to destroy the notebook and you’re going to swear to say whatever you have to say to call off the dogs on this place and Zachariah.”

Gabriel swallowed hard as Dave’s huge hand closed around his upper arm. “Martin, don’t do this. You can’t come back from this. Dave, listen to me. Sam’s parents are waiting for me. They’re going to come looking for me soon.”

Dave’s hand tightened and he jerked Gabriel forward, propelling him out of the cabin and down the steps.  The area was deserted, but Gabriel sucked in a deep breath of air to shout for help anyway. A vicious punch to his kidney stopped that in its tracks and Gabriel would have collapsed in agony if Dave hadn’t hauled him back to his feet.

Martin was glaring at him, shaking his wrist.  “Not a sound or you’ll get it again, hear me?”

Dave started walking, heading for the showers, and Gabriel was dragged along, his toes barely brushing the ground.

They were almost inside the building when a shout stopped them.

“Martin!”

Gabriel sagged in relief.  That sounded like Brady. He craned his head backward to see. Sure enough, Brady was striding toward them.

“What do you think you are doing?” he demanded.

Martin shifted his weight and pulled out the notebook.  “I…found this,” he muttered, and shoved it at Brady.

Brady took it and began to read.

Gabriel’s arm was aching and his back was throbbing where Martin had punched him. “You guys think I could go now?” he asked plaintively.  “Not that I’m not enjoying myself, but places to be and all…”

“You shut your mouth,” Brady snapped without looking up from the book.

Gabriel subsided, dread rising in his gut and choking him. 

Finally Brady looked up from the notebook.  His eyes were hard.

“Is this yours?” he asked, shoving the book under Gabriel’s nose.

Gabriel shrugged.

“I found it in his shoe,” Martin said eagerly, all but wringing his hands.

“Were you here to shut the camp down?” Brady demanded.

Gabriel shrugged again and Brady’s mouth tightened, nostrils flaring in rage as he turned to Martin.

“What were you planning on doing with him?”

Martin shrank back a little and Dave’s hand tightened on Gabriel’s arm, making him gasp.

“Nothing,” Martin whined.  “Just…teaching him a lesson on keeping his mouth shut.”

“I’ve definitely learned my lesson,” Gabriel said.  Brady’s full-armed slap rocked his head back and he tasted blood in his mouth.  His ears were ringing and he shook his head, dazed.

“You shut your filthy mouth,” Brady hissed.  “Get him inside, Dave.”

Dave obeyed with alacrity, dragging Gabriel over the threshold as he clawed desperately at the doorframe, trying to stop his forward movement. 

Inside one of the shower stalls, Dave finally let go, shoving Gabriel forward so hard he stumbled and went to his knees.

He scrambled back to his feet, panting for air through a chest that seemed too tight, and put his back against the wall.  Panic was beating frantically in his head and he was shaking.

“I won’t say anything,” he said.  “This really isn’t -”

Brady punched him in the mouth and Gabriel’s head snapped back, connecting hard with the tiled wall.  More blood filled his mouth and he blinked, dazed, as Brady stepped close and grabbed his hair.

“You’re right,” Brady growled.  “You _won’t_ say anything.  You’ll say you got these injuries coming off the horse, and you’ll keep your disgusting lies to yourself.”

Gabriel turned his head and spat out a mouthful of blood.  “Everyone saw me,” he managed to say.  “They’ll…know…I’m lying.”

Brady sneered at him.  “No one was looking at you. They were looking at Sam’s broken ankle. You have no proof.”

_The social worker._ Gabriel opened his mouth to tell Brady that the social worker had documented his injuries, but Brady chose then to punch him in the stomach.  Gagging, Gabriel fell to his knees, retching and struggling to breathe through the pain.

“I want to hit him next!” Martin was saying above him, and Gabriel tried to brace himself. The boot that landed on his ribs drove the air from his lungs and Gabriel toppled over onto his side, drawing his knees to his chest as blows began to rain down fast and furious from all sides.

For the first time in his life, Gabriel prayed to a God he wasn’t sure he believed in. _Please God, let me live.  Let me see Sam again._

A toe caught his chin, bouncing his head off the wall again and Gabriel slid gratefully into oblivion.  His last clear thought was of Sam smiling at him, green eyes alight with love and laughter.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter, but I'm posting it immediately because I know you guys well enough by now to know that you'd be baying for blood if I tried to leave you hanging on the previous chapter. So here ya go. 
> 
> Again, TRIGGER WARNINGS for severe injuries in the aftermath of the vicious beating.

_Pain._  Gabriel’s entire world was pain.  There was so much of it that he couldn’t focus on one specific ache.  His body was screaming at him, and none of his father’s beatings had ever prepared him for this much agony. He vomited blood, his stomach cramping and protesting as the abused muscles stretched more.

Gabriel panted for air, fingers of his right hand flexing uselessly against the cold floor. He was pretty sure his left hand was broken; he had a vague memory of Dave’s huge foot landing on it at least twice.

Finally his stomach eased a little and Gabriel lifted his head an inch off the ground. The movement made his muscles lock up solid in protest and his back arched as his mouth opened in a silent scream of agony. 

It was at least a minute before his body relaxed and Gabriel slumped back to the floor, gasping and trembling.  He was alone; he was able to see that much through his one good eye.  The other was swollen shut.

He had to get out of there before Brady came to his senses and realized that it would be much easier to hide a dead body than rely on Gabriel to keep his mouth shut. Gritting his teeth, Gabriel began to crawl.

His world became the tortuous drag of his body forward, inch by agonizing inch. He stopped to vomit twice, his body simply unable to accept its current levels of pain without rebelling, and he passed out at least three times, coming to with his cheek pressed to cold concrete. His left arm hung uselessly, broken or dislocated at the shoulder, and Gabriel dug his toes into the floor, propelling himself forward a centimeter at a time.

He was nearly defeated by the lip of the shower stall, rising three inches above the floor, but after a long, desperate heave, Gabriel got himself up and over it. There were tears on his face, mixed with the blood, but he ignored them.  _Straight shot from here to the door. Then I just have to…_ His mind quailed at the thought of being out in the open, Brady coming back at any second to finish the job and Gabriel helpless to stop him, but he set his jaw and kept crawling.

 _Please,_ he thought desperately. _Just…please._

It felt like hours before he made it to the open doorway.  His cabin was across the clearing.  He’d left his phone on the dresser.  He could call…someone.  The cops?  Sam? Anyone, at this point.

Steps. How was he going to get up the steps?

_Worry about that later, Milton._

Gabriel took a deep, shuddery breath and started to crawl again. There was still no one around. He was alone, the sole survivor of a nuclear apocalypse starring…him.  A hysterical giggle welled up and Gabriel squashed it desperately, pulling himself forward another inch.

A shout rang out across the clearing and Gabriel’s head snapped up. Brady was running toward him. _No no no…_ terror lent Gabriel speed but he was only a few feet further away when Brady grabbed him and hauled him upright.

Gabriel struggled, sobbing in desperation, and Brady’s hold tightened.

 _“Gabriel?_ ”

Brady froze. Running footsteps came closer and then there were cool hands touching his face. _Mary._ Gabriel sagged and would have fallen if it weren’t for Brady’s arms still around him.

“What happened?” Mary was demanding.  “Oh my _God, what happened to him?”_

“I found him like this,” Brady said, his arms cruelly tight around Gabriel’s ribcage. Gabriel couldn’t breathe.

“Give him to me,” John’s deep voice said, and then strong, gentle arms were scooping Gabriel up.

He was floating on a sea of pain, fading in and out of awareness, only barely cognizant on his surroundings.  John was running, keeping Gabriel cradled close to his chest as he pounded through the trees.

“Call the hospital!” he shouted to Mary.  “Tell them we’re on our way with severe physical trauma, we’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Gabriel faded out again, coming to in the backseat of the Winchesters’ SUV. His head was in Mary’s lap and she was cupping his face, patting his cheek lightly.

“Gabriel, honey, I’m sorry but I need you to wake up for a second. Can you tell me who did this to you?”

Gabriel closed his eyes.  He didn’t want to remember. Mary patted his cheek again. “Sweetheart, _please._   Who was it?”

“Brady…” Gabriel slurred.  He wanted to sleep.

John climbed in the front seat.  “Hang onto him,” he said over his shoulder, and started the motor and gunned it, tossing up gravel behind them as he roared out of the circle driveway and barreled for the highway.

Mary’s hands were soft against Gabriel’s battered face and he turned toward her, blindly seeking her warmth.  Something wet fell on his face and it took him several seconds to realize that she was curled around him, weeping as she held him.

It was the last thing he processed before unconsciousness took him again.

 

He swam back to the surface slowly, becoming aware by degrees.  The first thing he registered was a hand gripping his. There was no pain; only a pleasant numbness that seemed to envelop his entire body.  He thought he might be floating several inches off the bed or the ground or wherever he was.

The next thing he realized was that there was someone speaking in a low tone next to him.

“…downstairs in the cafeteria with Dean and Dad,” they were saying.

Gabriel knew that voice, even thick with tears.  _Sam._

“It took a lot to get her to leave you,” Sam continued.  “But Dad finally dragged her away.  Gabe, you have to wake up.” There was a choked sound, like he was fighting back a sob.  “Please, Gabe. You’re going to come home with me. You’re going to spend the summer with us, and we’re going to get Brady locked up and Zachariah fired and the entire place shut down but we can’t do that if you won’t wake up.” He sniffled.

Gabriel couldn’t open his eyes.  He thought maybe they were glued shut.  He couldn’t move, could only lie there helplessly and listen to Sam weeping. Over _him._

“I knew you were special the first time I saw you,” Sam whispered through his tears. Gabriel had to strain to hear him. “You stood there so straight and proud, like you could tackle the world head on and anyone who didn’t like you could go fuck themselves.  Then the porn magazine…and the archery…I was already head over heels for you, for your smile, the way your eyes light up when you laugh.”

Sam took a shaky breath and Gabriel railed silently at his uncooperative body. He needed to _move,_ to speak, to tell Sam he could hear him. But all he could do was lie still and listen.

“And then that day on the lake…”  Gabriel could hear the smile in Sam’s voice, even through the tears.  “I don’t ever want to kiss anyone else, Gabe. I know they’ll say we’re too young, that we don’t know our own minds yet, that we should grow up more first, but…I need to tell you this.”

Silence fell and Gabriel raged noiselessly, trapped in a body that wouldn’t obey him.

“I love you, Gabriel,” Sam whispered.  “ _Please_ wake up. Please.”  He put his head down on the bed and Gabriel felt a tear splash on the back of his hand.

He gritted his teeth and poured all his concentration on just one thing; moving his hand. Sweat sprang up on his brow. It felt like moving mountains, Herculean in its impossible enormity, but then his fingers twitched and… _there._   He was squeezing Sam’s hand.

Sam’s head came up off the bed.  _“Gabe?”_ There was a world of joy in his voice.

 

**Two months later**

 

“Are you sure this is the last of it?” Sam asked, gasping as he staggered up the steps to where Gabriel was standing on the porch, a pile of boxes in his arms. “How do you have so much _stuff?_ ”

Gabriel grinned at him and leaned around the boxes for a kiss that Sam gave back willingly. “I’m a magpie,” he said. “I collect things. Whatever catches my interest goes in my collection.  That includes you, Samshine.”

Sam shook his hair out of his eyes and laughed.  “As long as you don’t kill me and put me on display in a creepy wax museum, I’m okay with that.”

John opened the front door and motioned Sam inside.  “Get a move on and stop flirting with your boyfriend, kiddo. Dinner’s almost ready.”

Gabriel followed Sam inside, sniffing the air appreciatively as he limped toward the kitchen.  He was healing more slowly than Sam, his injuries far more severe, but at least he was off the crutches.

“Can I help?” he asked Mary, who was swaying to the lively music on the speakers as she stood at the stove.

She turned and held out her arms, and Gabriel went into them gladly. One of the first things he’d learned was that Mary was constantly hugging “her boys”, and he’d become one of them almost immediately.  Gabriel had never had so much casual affection in his life and he soaked it up like parched soil after a drought.

He rested his head on her shoulder with a sigh.

“You okay, honey?” she asked.

“I miss Cas,” he admitted into her shirt.

Mary’s arms tightened.  “It won’t be long until the hearing for your emancipation and guardianship.  I have a good feeling about it, baby.”

Gabriel hugged her tighter.  “Thank you,” he whispered.

“Stop that,” Mary chided, but Gabriel could hear the smile in her voice. “You’re family now.”

“Hey!” Sam said as he walked into the kitchen.  “I saw him first, hands off!”

Mary laughed and let go of Gabriel.  “You’re just lucky I have to stir the meat,” she said, “Or it might have come to fisticuffs.”

“Fisticuffs?” Sam said, trying and failing to hold in his laughter. “Shall it be a duel at dawn, Mother Dearest?  Do you prefer pistols or cutlasses?”

“Cutlasses are pirates, you uncultured swine,” his mother said, unperturbed. “And I can still kick your butt, even if you _are_ six inches taller than me.”

“She can, you know,” John said from the doorway.  “I just heard from the police, you guys.”

Gabriel stiffened and Sam wrapped his arms around him from behind.

“They found Brady,” John said, and Gabriel relaxed, Sam keeping him upright. “He was halfway to Texas, but he’s in custody now.  Gabe, you’ll have to testify, of course.  Martin flipped, but they still can’t get Dave to say a word.”

“I don’t think I ever actually heard Dave speak at all,” Gabriel said, proud that his voice stayed mostly steady.  Sam bent down and kissed his neck and Gabriel leaned into it, soaking up the warmth and pressure of Sam’s mouth.  “What about Zachariah?”

“Well, between Sam’s and your testimony, Zachariah just resigned in disgrace. He’ll never work with kids again,” John said.  “The camp’s been put up for sale. Hopefully the new owners will use it for much more wholesome activities.”

Mary shot him a brilliant smile and John held out his hand to her as the song on the radio ended and the next one started.

Sam stepped back to give them room, pulling Gabriel against him.  Gabriel rested his head back against Sam’s chest as they watched John and Mary dance around the kitchen, Sam’s arms around his waist.

“Ew, mushy stuff,” Dean complained, poking his head in from the hall. “Any chance of food sometime this year or am I going to waste away to nothing while you two make out like teenagers?”

John flipped him off and Mary smacked his shoulder, stifling a laugh.

“In fact,” Dean said, flopping down at the table and stretching out his long legs, “You two are actually _worse_ than teenagers. Look at Sam and Gabe there. At least _they_ can control themselves!  Pitiful, that’s what it is.  And you call yourselves adults.”

Gabriel didn’t bother stopping the laugh that bubbled out.  He’d never had this, never realized what real family was supposed to be like, but this…this was he’d never known he wanted. All that was missing was Cas, and if things went well, maybe he’d have that soon too.  He turned in Sam’s arms and went up on tiptoe, ignoring the twinge from his still healing knee. 

“I love you,” he whispered against Sam’s lips.

Sam smiled, pulling him closer.  “I love you too, Gabe.  Welcome home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The more perceptive among you may have noticed that there is no actual sex-having in this fic, aside from the aborted attempt in the boat.
> 
> Because I love you, and because I know you're just as dirty-minded as I am, there will be a porny epilogue coming. Uh. AS IT WERE. Shut up, I'm hilarious.
> 
> I'm not sure when that will be, as I have to actually _write_ the damn thing first, but it will happen. So stay tuned - I'll try to add it within the week. 
> 
> Thank you for following along on this journey with me, and stay tuned for the Beignets update/final chapter, which is set to happen at some point today (Tuesday)!


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